Inversion
by bigfatcarp93 mk2
Summary: What if Simon Petrikov were the hero of Adventure Time, instead of Finn? Follow Simon as he explores a slightly different, more dangerous Ooo, using his wits to overcome the challenges before him.
1. Chapter 1 - Ice Slumber Panic

Not much lived in the freezing cold waters of Iceberg Lake, which meant that the vast body of water was usually still, calm and uninteresting. Tonight, however, something very interesting was happening indeed.

As the black water rippled and lapped against the chunks of ice that the lake was named for, the dark, cloudy midnight sky above was lit with bright, inexplicable flashes of orange and red. Loud voices echoed from the clouds, like people arguing or battling. And then, something dropped through the cloud cover, plummeting like a comet through the cold night air, encapsulated in bright orange flames. It shot downward at high speed, and then crashed hard into the lake's dark surface, creating a massive explosion of hot water and steam.

The surface where the impactor had struck boiled and bubbled with heat while a huge steam cloud drifted on the wind... and, with every passing minute, the heat died down a little more. Within an hour, the lake was icy cold again.

TWO MONTHS LATER

In the daytime now, waves pushed forward and back on the coast of Iceberg Lake, carrying with them a large, jagged hunk of frozen water that, with one great surge, was washed up on shore. It was a warm, summery morning, and the light beat down upon the ice, making it shiny and bright as it's surface began to be coated in runny water.

If the two dark shapes within the ice were objects or beings was hard to tell; the ice was murky and dirty. Some of this muck pooled around the miniature berg as it slowly melted, rivulets of water running down and staining the sand around them. On and on this process went, all day, while the iceberg slowly became smaller and smaller, and the figures within more and more visible.

One of them was very clearly human; as time passed he was more clearly distinguishable as a thin, middle-aged man with brown hair and glasses, wearing a dark tweed suit and red bow-tie. He seemed to have been frozen in some state of considerable distress, as he wore a permanent, panicked expression and had his arms out wide as though struggling. The other figure appeared to be a large dog, a Siberian Husky.

And so the ice sat there, in the sun. All day. Morning turned to midday, midday to a balmy afternoon, and as the temperature rose, the ice melted faster and faster, until the man's outstretched hand was actually sticking clear out of his wintery prison, his pale, wet skin slowly regaining color in the warm sunlight. After a time, the fingers began to wiggle. The man who had spent centuries trapped, frozen in time, was beginning to regain consciousness. Which, naturally, led to the immediate realization that he couldn't breathe.

What with his head being surrounded in ice and all.

The hand thrashed as much as it could, the only part of himself that the man could move as he panicked. He exerted as much of his very limited energy as he could, trying his best to force his arm to move... and, amazingly, miraculously, it began to work. The ice, melted and brittle, began to crack as the arm wriggled around, until finally, an entire chunk of the berg broke apart as Simon Petrikov's right arm tore free. Wasting no time (as he was beginning to see spots from his lack of breath) Simon grabbed a chunk of the ice that had broken and brought it upward at high speed, smashing it into the ice around his head.

As the broke apart, and Simon's head was freed, he tried to vain to gasp for air, only to cough up a series of ice chunks, and THEN he was able to get a lungful of air. As he coughed, hacked and gasped, it occurred to Simon that he was very, very cold. It then occurred to him that it would actually be stranger if he wasn't very, very cold. Thankfully, the ice holding him had become too unstable to hold his body weight any more, and the frozen water surrounding the rest of his body fell to pieces, causing him to crash down onto the soggy sand.

For a moment, Simon could only lie there on the wet beach, surrounded by broken (and rapidly melting) pieces of ice as he appreciated the feeling of the warm sun on his sopping back. Having spent what adrenaline he had forcing his arm to move, he found that he just didn't have the strength to move. So there he lie, face-down on the shores of Iceberg Lake, wet and confused and cold, unable to feel most of his body, as the afternoon pressed on.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

A couple of hours later, as the sun was beginning to cast long shadows, Simon began to stir into movement. He pulled himself into a sitting position, coughed, and looked around. He seemed to be on a beach, likely to a sea or ocean, though he wasn't discounting a large lake at this point. It seemed reasonably warm... and yet, there were icebergs washing up on the shore. He looked at the one he had broken out of; now less than half the size it had been when he regained consciousness, it still contained the Siberian Husky he had been entombed with, one of the dog's paws only now starting to be exposed.

"Where-" his first attempt to speak was cut off by a coughing fit, but once that subsided, he felt he could talk to himself with reasonable ease once more. "Where am I? Warm beaches with icebergs flowing in... hmm... Patagonia? Japan? New England... wait, why would I be... I was in..." he looked down, rubbing his forehead in confusion. He could barely remember where he had been, or what he had been doing right before he was frozen... but he was pretty sure it had been Scandinavia, not Japan or the Americas...

He looked at the dog. "Toto, I don't think we're in Finland anymore..." Looking around, he couldn't see any signs of civilization, not even a picket fence to stop people going down onto the beach. Past the beach, there just seemed to be empty grassland. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his cell phone, relieved to see that it had survived without any water damage, and even worked when he flipped it open, showing an image of him smiling hand-in-hand with a happy, bespectacled woman. "No signal..." he muttered. "And the battery's almost done for... better save it." He turned the phone off and replaced it in his jacket.

The sun was getting low in the sky, and the shadows were lengthening by the second. Simon figured that this beach wouldn't still be as warm after sundown, and that he should probably start a fire. "Bit'a driftwood will work..." he got up, wobbling for a moment on his still very stiff legs, brushed the sand off his suit, and set off down the coast, looking for wood.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

After about forty-five minutes, Simon had come to be rather impressed with his own supply-gathering skills, and the armful of driftwood he was lugging along proved, in his opinion, that he was right to be. All-in-all, for a man stranded somewhere most likely far from home, with no help or supplies or clue where he was, he didn't think he was doing too bad. Within minutes he'd have a roaring fire, and then he could focus on his next priorities, water and food, respectively. But, one thing at a time.

Simon wasn't completely sure why he decided to bring the driftwood back to where he had broken out of the ice, as he hadn't left behind anything of value and could have set up his camp anywhere. But maybe he just felt that, as the actual place where this whole experience began, it was a decent point from which to touch base and collect himself. And so, with his pile of campfire-to-be held in his arms, he turned right around and started to head back the way he had come.

In Simon's mind, he mostly needed rest tonight, to recuperate from being frozen. He'd scout around a little bit for some food, but he wouldn't go out of his way for it. The higher priority was water, but he had ideas about that. Tonight would need to be restful. Tomorrow was when he'd start trying to figure things out. But the first thing was, as always, fire. Except maybe that flying thing. Maybe that was first thing.

Simon paused. There was something in the distance, flying this way. It was hard to make out in the dark, but it looked too big to be a bird. He looked closely, squinting his eyes and trying to make out the approaching thing, as it screeched. Now that it was closer, it was easier to see... unfortunately.

The man-sized green leech wriggled nastily through the air, flying on a pair of great black bat wings, while a ring of teeth in its circular mouth snapped unpleasantly. "WHAT THE WHAT!?" Simon proclaimed. His eyes widened in shock, and he rubbed them. Surely, he was hallucinating. But when the monster screeched again, he decided that it was most certainly NOT a hallucination. Turning around, Simon bolted, running back up the beach as fast as he could while the creature hissed and snapped.

"What, what, what, WHAT!?" He kept repeating as he ran, before tripping on something and faceplanting, the driftwood scattering. It was well-timed, too, and the leech monster had just reached him, and snapped its teeth right where his head had just been. Moving too fast to stop, the bat-winged beast flew on ahead while Simon looked up at it with an expression of horror; it was turning around and coming back. As it lunged for the man, he reacted on instinct, grabbing the largest log he had dropped and swinging it as a club.

It was a good swing; with a wet SMACK and a pained screech, the leech was knocked back, flipping end over end as it tried to right itself. Simon looked down at his makeshift weapon (now coated in a bit of green slime), and back up at the creature as it regained stability and hovered on flapping wings. Grimacing, Simon lifted the wood and threw it at the monster, javelin style. The leech was quick, flapping to the side and dodging it with a hiss, but decided it had had enough, wheeling around and flying away, out over the water.

Simon panted, out of breath and exhausted. He still wasn't fully restored, and that had overexerted him badly. And what on Earth WAS that thing? He was no biologist, but he had never heard of any such organism existing in the natural world. An impossible thought occurred to him. "Goodness... what if I was in that ice for tens of millions of years, and life has evolved unrecognizably!?" He then quickly shook his head. "No, never mind. That's dumb, and highly unlikely."

Left without answers, he resigned himself to gathering up his firewood and heading back. He stood up and brushed sand off his suit again. "Heh... silly Simon... tens of millions of years... get ahold of yourself, man."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Simon returned to the location that he had decided would be his camp to a surprising sight: the dog, despite the cool night air being particularly lenient on the ice, was mostly free. What was more, he appeared to be alive and in reasonable health. Only a small amount of ice was left, with only the dog's hind legs trapped at this point. Drag marks in the sand seemed to imply that the dog could even move around a bit and drag the ice with it, and had been doing so. He looked up at Simon as the human returned.

"Ah." Simon said, looking at the Siberian. "I see you're mostly free now, good job."

"Pfft," said the dog. "Don't patronize me."

"Oh, sorry, I just meant..." Simon paused, staring at the dog in shock. Now he was sure he was hallucinating.

"Hey!" yelled the hound. "Four-eyes! Yeah, you! Are you gonna stand there staring or help me out of this stupid iceberg! Whatever happened to good Samaritans!?"

Simon rubbed his eyes again. The Siberian Husky was talking to him.

"You... you just talked!"

"Yeah, I appreciate the update, but I was actually there for that part."

"You're speaking English!"

"Well it's sure not Portuguese, GET ME THE FLIP OUT OF HERE!"

"I'm sorry," said Simon, "I'm just... I've never seen a... why is your head so small?"

"I don't know, why is your face stupid?"

"I'm sorry, I just mean... well, you're a talking dog, and that's amazing and very impressive, but dogs... dogs don't have speech centers in their brains, so if you can talk, then you must have one, but that means your head has to be bigger, but it isn't, so..."

"Hey. Guy. Listen to me."

Simon was quiet, listening to what the dog had to say.

"Get. Me out. Of the ice."

Simon looked down at the firewood he was carrying. He set most of it down, grabbed a large piece, walked over to the hound, raised the club, and smashed the ice.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Later, after sundown, Simon stoked the fire, the Husky lying nearby. Looking at him, Simon decided to make small talk.

"So... what's your name?"

"Declan." he said without looking up.

"Declan, of course, of course... Well, I'm Simon."

"I don't care."

"How exactly can you talk?"

Declan glanced at him. "Y'know, I'm actually not sure? I mean, yesterday I'm a dog, right?"

"Right."

"Head full of dog thoughts and dog memories."

"Sure."

"Then you and I get frozen or whatever, and I wake up on this beach and it's like BOOM, head full of new stuff. I even know what planking is now, though I wish I didn't."

"Huh. Weird."

"'Huh weird?' Is that all you've got? Aren't you some big shot scientist?"

Simon looked at him. "I'm an antiquarian."

Declan returned the look with a deadpan stare. "So, useless?"

Simon furrowed his brow in annoyance, but didn't say anything.

After a couple minutes, he got up and began walking down to the water's edge. Declan watched him go. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna see if this water's drinkable."

He knealt down at the edge and dipped his hand in, cupping some water and bringing it up to his mouth. He took it in and tasted it. Clean-ish, at least with no overt weird taste, but not salty. He swallowed it and stood up.

"Freshwater. We can drink it, though we should really find a better source tomorrow."

"No kidding."

Before either of them could say anything else, a screeching sound split the air. "Oh crumbs!" said Simon, looking out over the water, where a dozen or so dark shapes could be seen approaching in the night sky.

"What is it?" asked Declan, getting to his feet.

"Flying leech monsters!" yelled Simon.

Declan didn't even hesitate for a second. "Welp, I'm out!" he turned and bounded away into the darkness.

"Declan!" Simon yelled, but quickly decided to follow the dog's example, sprinting away from the beach and fire and off into the shadowy grasslands, lit only by the stars.

He ran for a good, solid minute before his strength began to fail him; he still hadn't eaten anything since he had awoken from the ice. Scrambling into a stand of tall grass, he crouched down and hid in silence, waiting for the leeches to pass him by.

He waited for a few minutes, but there was no sign of the aggressors. They hadn't passed by, and Simon could no longer hear their calls. "Huh." he muttered to himself in the dark. "I guess they don't like leaving the lake."

Getting up out of the grass, he looked around, seeing nothing but rolling, shadowy hills everywhere. Shrugging, he picked a random direction and started walking.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

After several hours of walking, Simon was cold, hungry, exhausted, and growing increasingly confident that he would be walking the entire night without finding help. He even missed Declan; the canine was at least someone to talk to.

He was thrilled, naturally, when he spotted the glow of torches over the next hill. Moreso when he heard the yelling. Less so when he heard the screaming. Nevertheless, he reasoned that it was at least better to find SOMEONE, even if their troubles came with them. So, he began running up the hill, towards the commotion. The running proved to be a bit of a mistake, as Simon crested the hill the exact same time they did, and ran facefirst into someone, causing him to tumble to the ground and lose his glasses.

His appearance must have shocked the group out of their peril, as they immediately became quiet as he began feeling around in the grass for his glasses. Without the light from their torches, this would have been virtually impossible; thankfully, he spotted their familiar glint and claimed them while the man he ran into spoke in a rather posh accent. "My word! So very sorry about toppling you, my good fellow! There are times when I truly don't know my own strength!"

The man offered a hand to help Simon up, and he took it while speaking. "Oh, that's alright, it was silly of me to... to be... to be..."

Back on his feet, Simon was now getting a good look at the man, who actually wasn't a man at all.

Because he was a cupcake.

For the third time today, Simon rubbed his eyes in astonishment. But the image before him remained the same: a person-sized, white-frosted cupcake, with muscular arms and legs, a mouth, eyes, and a great big twirly mustache, to reiterate, THE CUPCAKE HAD A MUSTACHE, and it took Simon several seconds just to reconcile that fact ALONE. It took even longer for him to truly appreciate that he was speaking to an anthropomorphic cupcake. An anthropomorphic cupcake that was now raising an eyebrow - because the cupcake also had eyebrows - and looking at Simon quizzically.

"Are you quite alright, old chap?" The revelation that a baked good had just called him "old chap" was still struggling to worm its way into Simon's mind as he looked around at the rest of the group. Indeed, they all appeared to be sweets of some kind or another, among them a tall, thin lollypop girl (OF COURSE SHE'S THIN, SHE'S A LOLLYPOP) with a flapper haircut and what looked like a quasi-humanoid strawberry partially covered in chocolate. There were about a dozen of them all in all, and Simon was staring at them in open-mouthed shock.

"Is he okay?" asked a strand of licorice.

"I think he's a bit simple..." responded a chocolate bar.

"This is a dream." said Simon at last. "I'm having a very bizarre, very vivid dream... with talking dogs and leech monsters and candy people, and I'm about to wake up next to Betty and tell her all about it, and she'll tell me about her dream, and we'll both have a laugh and then breakfast."

The candy people stared at him, unsure of what to make of this sudden outburst.

"Any second now." he continued, his legs wobbling a bit.

"Um, sir?" asked the strawberry in a French accent. "Forgive me, but... are you... human?"

"Yes." Simon said dully. "I'm human."

The candy people all 'ooh'd and 'ah'd. Apparently, this was very impressive.

"My name's Simon." he continued automatically, in a bit of a daze and not really knowing what else to say.

"Well, Mr. Simon Human," said the cupcake, "We are very well met, but if you could give us directions to-"

"No."

"...I'm sorry?"

"No. No no. No." Simon was starting to come to his senses, shaking his head defiantly. "No, I'm sorry, but... you're not real. None of you are real. At all. I'm imagining all of this."

The cupcake raised his eyebrow again, now looking somewhat offended. "I beg your pardon, sir, but we are very real. I am Mr. Cupcake. And this is Lollypop Girl, Chocoberry, and some background characters. We are refugees from the Candy Kingdom."

Simon stared at the cupcake, taking in his words. Everything he was seeing and hearing right now was not only impossible, but downright silly. It felt more like a Far Side comic then real life. And yet... the things that he and Betty had studied... all of the theories and stories, amazing things said to have existed in times past. He had never really believed in it all... but he did recall word, in some old legends, of beings made of sugar, and delectable treats taking on a life of their own... could it all be true?

Simon shook his head. At the end of the day, one thing mattered: whether this was a weird prank or cult, or hallucination or dream or if it was all legit was irrelevant next to one simple fact: it would probably be easier if he just went with it.

"Alright... alright. Sorry about all that, I've just had a bit of a weird night."

"Think nothing of it, chum!" proclaimed Mr. Cupcake merrily. "We're all prone to the odd eccentricity! Why, I myself enjoy bathing in poison oak leaves! The burn is so worth it..."

"Uh-huh... okay, um... I don't suppose any of you have any food? I've been without all day, and I'm famished..."

"NAT-turally!" Mr. Cupcake replied bombastically, before reaching up, pulling off a chunk of his own frosting, and offering it out to Simon.

Simon took the offered frosting automatically, staring at it in his hand with a growing expression of horror. He looked up at Mr. Cupcake, who merely wiggled his brows enticingly. If the prospect of eating a part of this apparent sapient being's body was already disturbing, then that simply made it more so. Taking a breath, Simon opened up, closed his eyes, and prepared to sink his teeth into the fragment, when he was cut off by Lollypop Girl's scream.

"They're here!" she shrieked, pointing in the direction that the group had come from. Simon leaned over to look.

Staggering slowly over the next hill were about fifty or sixty candy people. These ones, however, were very different. Where the group Simon was standing with were all brightly colored, these ones had a mottled green and brown color scheme, and glowing green eyes, and some of them were missing fragments. All of the moved with same slowish, clumsy gait, in many cases dragging their feet, and all were groaning in monotone voices. A couple seemed to be saying "Sugar".

"The candy zombies!" Mr. Cupcake shouted, pointing at the horde, "They've caught up with us!"

Simon looked at him. "Candy... zombies. You've got to be kidding me."

"It isn't a jest! They're going to kill us and eat our sugar!"

"What about me?" Simon asked.

"Oh, they'll probably eat you too."

"Right. Okay, I guess we'd better run, then."

"Capital! Lead the way, Simon the Human!"

And off they went, sprinting into the night while the Zombies shambled slowly after.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Some hours later, Simon and the Candy People stopped to rest. They had returned to the general area Simon had started out from; he could hear the waves of the lake not far to the right.

"Well, that's that." said Simon. "I mean, they must need to rest too, so we can probably take a load off for a while. They're so slow, it'll be easy for us to get moving if we see them."

Mr. Cupcake shook his head. "That's what we thought, my dear fellow, but those fiends need never rest! They are fueled by their very being as undead! Even now they doubtless pursue us, relentless!"

Simon raised a brow. "Well that doesn't make sense, they must have SOME kind of metabolic function..."

"I can assure you it is true! We have been fleeing for days, and not once have they slowed!"

Simon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So... the only way to really be rid of them would be to destroy them?"

"Indeed, but they have us so outnumbered! Even THEEEEESE..." he flexed his muscles dramatically, earning admiring looks from all the female candies - "would be useless!"

"So how did this whole zombie thing start, anyway?"

"In Candy Kingdom, of course! You see, we were all spending a quiet evening outside the walls, when suddenly these accursed undead came lumbering from the graveyard!"

"They killed Starchie the gravedigger!" proclaimed Lollypop Girl in distress. "It was horrible!"

"It's a good thing that Princess Bubblegum fixed that little defect of Candy People exploding when they're scared!" said Mr. Cupcake. "Otherwise we'd have been doomed then and there!"

Simon sat down. "And what happened next?"

Chocoberry replied. "We tried to get into ze castle, but ze Princess had placed it all under quarantine to protect the citizens! Zose guards would not even let us in!"

"Ugh, those guards!" said Mr. Cupcake angrily. "I despise them! It's not like they're even real candy!"

The rest of the group looked apprehensive at these words; Simon gathered that Mr. Cupcake was probably the only one who hated the guards: the others seemed to fear them.

"So, we did the only thing we could." said some ice cream. "We ran, and the zombies followed."

"Are you going to eat that or not?" Mr. Cupcake asked, pointing at Simon's hand.

"Huh?" Simon looked down at his hand, where he was still holding the piece of Mr. Cupcake. His hand was now quite sticky. "Oh, um... I suppose. I don't know, I guess I've lost my appetite."

"Ha-HA! Nonsense!" said Mr. Cupcake, throwing a friendly arm around Simon. "Everyone likes candy!"

"Heh, yeah, I guess they d- they do..." Simon's eyes widened. He had just had an idea.

He jumped to his feet. "Oh! Candy! Candy, candy! Everybody loves candy! I just figured it out!"

"Figured what out?" asked Mr. Cupcake, taken aback by this sudden new enthusiasm from his dour friend.

Simon wheeled on him, grinning. "I know what we're going to do about the zombies! Oh, this is PERFECT!" He rounded on the entire group. "Listen, everybody, I know what to do, but I'll need your help! I need every one of you to give me a piece of yourselves, like Mr. Cupcake did!"

They exchanged quizzical looks, but complied, all getting to their feet to hand Simon candy from their bodies. Soon, he had an armful of candy: a chunk of strawberry, some lollypop, a bit of chocolate, and handful of ice cream, a bit of licorice, and other pieces from the others. "There! That's perfect, this should easily be enough, thank you!"

He ran up a nearby hill and looked around. The sun was getting ready to rise, and Simon was illuminated in a bit of grey light as the Candy People looked up at him expectantly. "Perfect..." he said. "Perfect! Alright..." he set the candy down. "Listen, I need you all to start running in that direction!" he pointed further in the direction they had been going in, away from where the zombies would come from. "Keep going for at least a few minutes, they have to follow your scent that way!"

"Very well, Mr. Simon!" said Mr. Cupcake. "We'll trust you. But are you going to be alright?"

"Yes, yes, I have a perfect plan, don't worry!" he straightened his glasses confidently, beaming. "Now, you all need to get moving, quickly, before they catch up with us! Go, go!"

Shrugging, Mr. Cupcake led the group at a jog in the direction Simon had indicated, passing him by. Simon watched them go. The bait was set... and now for the trap.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Less than two minutes later, the groaning horde of sweets stumbled over the hill, following their prey with unending determination. "Suuuuggggaaaarrrr..."

"HEY! ZOMBIES!"

The monsters hesitated for a moment, looking off the to the side, where Simon was standing atop a knoll, hands on his hips. "YOU WANT SUGAR!?" he opened his jacket, showing pockets full of candy. "THEN COME AND GET IT!" He scooped out a handful of ice cream and chucked it, causing it to land at the feet of one of the zombies. The green-eyed beast fell to its knees and quickly devoured the ice cream out of the grass, before looking up at Simon and snarling.

"THAT'S RIGHT, COME ON!" pulling out the piece of Chocoberry, he began breaking it apart and scattering it around at his feet. Changing direction, the pack of zombies began to lurch towards Simon, growling and moaning and demanding sugar. Simon backed away, dropping the last couple of pieces as he did so, before reaching into his jacket and pulling out the chocolate. He began walking away, leaving a trail of little broken-off chocolate pieces to lead the monsters on. The pack reached the trail, stumbling over themselves in their eagerness to devour the fruit and chocolate.

On and on Simon led them with his trail of sugary goodness, until, now armed with only the piece of Mr. Cupcake, he reached the shores of Iceberg lake.

"You know what?" Simon told the zombies as he walked backwards down the beach, waving the piece of frosting to goad them on. "You guys remind me of the zombies from a computer game I played once. Back in college, a bunch of my friends made me sit down and play Doom." Moaning and snarling, the fiends had nearly reached him, cornering him against the water. Simon stepped back into the shallows, water reaching to his ankles, and threw the piece of candy at them, buying himself only a moment as they tore into it.

"I didn't really like that game all that much. Too violent for my tastes." Finished with the candy, they rounded on him, baring their teeth and growling as they reached forward to tear him limb from limb. "But you know? I think I learned a valuable tactic from it." Simon smiled as a loud screech sounded behind him. "MONSTER INFIGHTING!"

Simon threw himself into the water just in time as a pack of hissing, snapping Leech monsters flew into the fray, lunging towards the zombies and attacking them. Simon looked up from the water just in time to se the carnage begin, as the leeches began flying around the suddenly confused and disoriented zombies, biting into them and tearing chunks away. "Because everyone likes candy!"

The fight was brutal on both sides. The leeches came in strong with a heavy advantage at first, having both surprise and altitude on their side. They could fly in behind a distracted zombie, latch onto it, and then tear a chunk of it away. Soon, however, the zombies became wise to what was happening and fought back, grabbing leeches out of the sky and tearing their wings off or bodies in half. It was by far the most savage thing Simon had ever seen.

By the end of it, all the leeches were dead, and only a single hapless zombie remained. Grimacing, Simon grabbed a small chunk of ice that had washed up on shore and rushed the zombie, raising the ice as a weapon and smashing it right in the face. The zombie's head split open as it tumbled to the sand, dead once more. Simon grinned down at the fruits of his successful plan, one hand on his hip as he looked down at the ice chunk.

"Huh... that's the second time today that ice has saved my life..." he held the chunk up triumphantly. "Just call me the ICE KING! No, that'll never catch on."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

As the sun rose, Simon wandered out into the grasslands and sat down on a rock. After all that, he was STILL tired, STILL starving, and STILL thirsty. Almost as bad, his wet clothes provided no protection from the chilly morning wind, and he began to shiver. "F-f-f-fire... need a fire..."

Some minutes later, Simon, shed of his jacket, which lie in the grass nearby, sat before a campfire made from the driftwood he had retrieved the previous evening. He stoked it gently, wondering if he'd ever get back home.

"Ahem."

Simon looked up in surprise, to see Declan sitting not far away, a dead squirrel at his feet. "Hey."

"Declan. You came back."

"Yeah, well... I was gonna keep going, but I ran into this crazy green magic hobo who wanted to turn me into a body part. You?"

"Undead monsters made out of candy and ice cream."

"...Yeah, sounds about right."

Simon looked down at the squirrel. "You caught some food."

"Yep."

"You pretty good at that?"

"...I'm a Siberian Husky."

"Right. Be better cooked, though, wouldn't it?"

"...Yeah, I guess so."

Simon gave him a look. "If you'd be interested in sharing a bit... I might be in the mood to cook... and you don't seem to have the thumbs for it."

"Alright, alright, don't be pushy." He nudged the squirrel towards Simon, who started to prepare a spit.

As he worked, Declan talked. "So... this world we've washed up in seems pretty weird. And pretty dangerous."

"Yep. Feel like sticking together? Exploring it, trying to find a way home?"

"You know what? I don't have anything better to do."


	2. Chapter 2 - Prisoner of War

Snow crunched below Simon's shoes as he gazed around the bizarre landscape before him. Mere minutes ago, he and Declan had been walking along in lush green grasslands, enjoying a rather warm day despite their hazardous conditions. Now, it was as though they had stumbled into Northern Canada in the middle of winter: snow and pine trees were everywhere, and the temperature was quite frigid.

Simon looked over at Declan, who was sniffing near some rocks, and reached into his jacket, pulling out some parchment and a pen. As he scribbled, Declan looked up.

"What are you doing, nerd?"

"I'm making a rough map of all the places we go."

"...Where'd you get that paper and pen?"

"Oh, I always have a few extra pens on me wherever I go. And I took this old blank scroll off a skeleton we passed back in the grassland."

"It's okay, I don't think that's creepy at all, I promise."

Simon looked up and ahead, where a massive, conical protrusion of ice stood a few hundred feet from the duo. "These mountains are strange... and certainly not naturally occurring... I don't think any of this is, I can't imagine what kind of climate could cause such a whiplash of temperature. To step from one biome to another, so spontaneously..."

"Could you honestly be a bigger dork?"

Simon gave the dog an annoyed glance. "I'll have you know that I dedicated my entire life to the pursuit of knowledge. A little respect wouldn't go amiss."

"Hey, have you ever heard of these things called girls?"

"And I'll have you FURTHER know that I'm engaged! Now hush up while I riddle this out."

"'Hush up?' Were you born in the 1920's?"

Simon ignored him and got back to looking around. Kneeling down, he shoveled away some of the snow with his hands, revealing green grass below. "It looks like this is just a section of the grasslands that got covered in cold... inexplicable... I'd love to come back here with Betty and give this place a proper study..."

"Your fiancée's a nerd, too? I can't believe this."

"...This also explains those icebergs... the cold air and water must flow from the coast here, keeping the lake cool... and then, when pieces of the ice break off and float to shore, they melt... astounding."

Simon buttoned up his jacket for further protection from the cold. "Come on, let's look around."

He strode off into the trees, and Declan followed.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Simon and Declan passed a number of strange sights as they wandered through this frozen landscape, including more of the giant ice mountains, and another strange creature.

The duo sat within the shadows of the treeline, watching cautiously as the lumbering, humanoid figure, with its sloping gait and long arms, wandering across an open clearing somewhat aimlessly. Said creature also appeared to be made of snow. Simon was undoubtedly curious about this, but after his experiences with the zombies, he felt inclined to remain careful, and observe from afar.

"D'you think it's dangerous?" Simon whispered to Declan as the snow creature leaned down, picked up a pear, and sniffed it several times.

"How should I know?"

"Because you're a dog, you've got... y'know, instincts!"

"Oh, yeah, okay, I'll just use my psychic dog powers to work this out for you, how about that?"

"You can just say 'I don't know..."

Soon, the Snow Golem moved on, taking the pear with it and humming merrily. Giving it a few minutes to gain some distance, Simon and Declan left their hiding place behind and got moving. They didn't make it more than twenty paces, however, before Simon stubbed his toe.

"OW!" he yelled, hopping up and down and holding his foot, "MOTHERMOTHERMOTHER- What was that!?"

Curious, Declan went over to the spot where it had happened and sniffed around in the snow. "Hmm..." he said. "Smells like there's something metal under here..."

Simon furrowed his brow as Declan dug through the snow with his paws, unveiling some kind of gunlike object, all metal and a bit bigger than a rifle.

"What is that?" asked Declan as Simon bent over to grab the implement and pull it free. He recognized the design somewhat...

"This... this is a flamethrower!" he announced.

"Whoah! Does it work?"

Simon examined it thoroughly, running a hand along the metal. "I think so... it doesn't seem badly damaged... can't say if it has fuel or not..."

"Well, we should hang onto it, either way."

"Agreed." The flamethrower had an attached strap, which Simon slung over himself, allowing the weapon to hang in front of his torso and leave his arms free. They moved on, wandering into the trees.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

After a couple hours walking the woods, Simon and Declan found themselves in a rather narrow canyon of ice, no more than twenty feet at its widest point.

"Hey," said Simon, "you should probably run ahead, see if there's an exit. If not, we can go back to those woods and get a fire going."

"No need for scouting," said Declan, "look."

Simon followed his instructions and gazed ahead, where some ice seemed to have fallen and blocked the path, creating a jagged barricade of ice some eight feet tall.

"Guess we're going back anyway," said Declan. Simon, however, seemed unconvinced, looking at the blockade closely.

"Maybe not... you know, this might be the perfect opportunity to test out or new toy." he grabbed the flamethrower.

"You think you can melt through that?"

"Only one way to find out..." he switched the device on, causing a small blue flame to appear beneath the nozzle. He aimed it at the ice, pulled the trigger, and...

FWOOSH.

A sheet of fire spat forth from the weapon, washing over the ice. "Woo!" said Simon, quickly letting go and stumbling back in surprise; he had felt some of the heat. "Well, it certainly works! Let's flambé this baby!" Squeezing the trigger again, he began to blast the ice, which swiftly began to melt under the intense blaze.

As that was happening, Declan's ears perked up. His acute hearing could tell that someone was watching them from above. Looking up, he spotted what appeared to be someone poking their head out over the canyon wall, looking down at them. Before he could say anything, Simon eased up on the flamethrower, and at the same moment, the figure leapt straight down towards them, plummeting fifty feet before coming to a stop floating in the air before Simon.

"INTERLOPERS!" he screamed in a high-pitched voice. "FIENDS! BRINGERS OF FIRE!"

"Ah!" yelled Simon in shock, stumbling backwards. "What the bread balls!?"

Floating about a meter off the ground was what _would_ have been the strangest person Simon had ever seen, _if_ he had not recently spent several hours with a group of sapient candy beings. He seemed to be a young boy of maybe 11 or 12 years of age, but with blue clothes and skin, a long, pointed nose, and an odd white hat with little animal ears on top. The hat covered all the way down to his neck, and sticking out from the bottom and the face hole were copious amounts of messy blonde hair. His clothes were tattered and torn, and a dark blue cloak hung from his shoulders, flapping behind him in the breeze like a flag.

Topping off the entire ensemble was a large, golden crown with rubies in it, sitting atop the boy's head.

"WHO ARE YOU!?" He shrieked, pointing his hands at them threateningly. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!? WHYYYYYYYYY... did you bring FIRE into the kingdom of IIIIIIIIIICE!?"

Taken aback by the boy's bombastic demeanor and screeching tenor, Simon didn't respond immediately, merely babbling for a moment. This, however, only seemed to aggravate the boy more, as he advanced on Simon with a nasty grimace that showed off a number of sharp, pointed teeth.

"I'm the Ice Prince!" he shouted, "And THIS IS THE ICE KINGDOM! I RULE HERE! You... have... to... ANSWER MEEEE!"

Simon then made a mistake. Ever a stickler for the facts, he latched on to the one aspect of the conversation that he could understand, and did the most foolish thing he could have possibly done to invoke the Ice Prince's wrath.

He corrected him.

"Young man, if you're a prince, and you rule here, then that makes this a Principality, not a Kingdom."

Both Declan and the Ice Prince stared in stunned silence at Simon for a moment.

"...What?" he asked. "It's true."

Declan spoke up. "Wow, are you for rea-"

"YYYYYYOOOOOUUUUU DAAAAAAARRRRRREEEEE!" howled the Ice Prince, glaring at Simon. "You dare INSULT ME!?"

"It's... it's not really an insult, it's more of a technica-"

" **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"** The Ice Prince's outstretched hands crackled with blue lightning, before two jets of energy shot from them, one striking Simon and the other Declan. And just like that, the duo were right back where they started: stuck in blocks of ice.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Simon wasn't quite sure how long it had been when the ice shattered and he was thrown roughly against a freezing cold floor, but his intuition told him it hadn't been long. He struggled to his knees, rubbing his head as he tried to figure out where he was and what was going on - a task made difficult at the moment by a very loud, shrill sound. It took him a moment to recognize that sound as the ramblings of the Ice Prince.

"-BE FREE, NEVER! HAHAHAHAHA!"

The sounds of the mad young man's horrid screaming quickly reminded him of what had happened; realizing the danger he was in, he stumbled to his feet to take stock of his surroundings: he seemed to be in a cell, with the walls, ceiling and floor, as well as the bars, made entirely of ice. The Ice Prince, still hovering several feet off the ground, was just slamming the door shut, leering unpleasantly at Simon.

"Have you nothing to say to THAT!?" he demanded.

Simon just blinked at the boy a few times, before something occurred to him. "Wait, where's Declan?"

"OH!" The Ice Prince grabbed the bars mockingly. "You mean the dog? Your dog, who snuck into MYYYYYYYY KINGDOM with you!? He's over there!" he point across the room outside the cell (also entirely ice), where another large ice block held the Husky.

"You want him back? DO YOU!? Well, TOO BAD!" laughing like a madman, the Prince rocketed across the room and kicked the ice boulder, causing it to slide into a side passage and vanish from view at an angle; apparently, that passage was at an incline. Simon ran over to the bars, grabbing them and addressing the Ice Prince.

"Why are you doing this!? I can tell I've offended you, but why imprison me!?"

"YOU HAVE VIOLATED ICE KINGDOM LAW!" Shrieked the Ice Prince, pointing an accusing finger at Simon. "YOU HAVE BROUGHT F... f-f- _ **FIRE!**_ Into my domain!" he pointed at the flamethrower: having been trapped with Simon, it was now lying on the floor of the cell. "Which is illegal! BY MY LAWS! Now..."

He flew back to the cell, giving a terrifying razor-toothed grin and demonstrating huge, bugged-out eyes, causing Simon to recoil from the bars in fear. "I'll ask you again! _**Who!? Are!? YOU!?"**_

"My name's Simon Petrikov, I'm just an antiquarian..."

"Is that your species!?"

"Well, no, I'm a human, and-"

"LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLIAR! If you're a human, THEN WHERE'S YOUR HAT!?" As the Ice Prince said this, he tugged at his own hat.

Simon didn't really know how to respond to this unusual question. "I... I don't know, I don't wear hats..."

The Ice Prince narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then grinned again. "Fine... FINE! If you don't want to tell me the truth, then you can both just ROT IN THERE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Cackling wildly, he flew away down a side corridor. Simon sat down on the icy floor, rubbing his head in stress.

"Well done, Simon. You've really put yourself in a pickle this time... wait, us two?"

It was then that Simon became aware that he was actually not alone in the cell. In the corner was a tall, pretty young woman in a pink dress, with pink skin and pink hair and pink shoes.

Generally, a there was a lot of pink going on.

She spoke in a high, sugary voice - if Simon had to use a color to describe it, it would most certainly be pink - and addressed him directly.

"Hello, my fellow captive. You seem to have really riled him up."

"Yeah, riled... what'd you do to tick him off? Not that I think it would take much, poor kid seems pretty unstable..."

"Yes, the Ice Prince is psychotic, and has been a menace to my people for months. I am Princess Bubblegum, regent of the Candy Kingdom."

"Candy Kingdom? I ran into some of your citizens the other day, running from some zombies."

This seemed to catch her interest greatly, as she stepped forward to speak in in urgent tone. "My people! It was Mr. Cupcake's group? Oh, please tell me, did they survive!?"

"Yes, they're fine, I destroyed the zombies. But they said _you_ locked them out of the kingdom?"

She looked away sheepishly. "Well... yes. But I didn't mean for that to happen that way, you must understand... I was experimenting in the graveyard, and created the zombies by accident. I was on my own out there, and I panicked. I ran back to the castle and ordered my guards to begin a full lockdown, to quarantine the city. I knew some citizens would get locked out momentarily, but I didn't mean for them to be left out there!"

"What happened?" Simon asked, checking the flamethrower for damage.

"Once the quarantine was complete, and the situation was under control, I was going to send out my guards to eradicate the zombies and save the people... but then..."

Her face took on an angry glare. "That little creep, the Ice Prince, showed up! Normally, he's too scared to come near the Kingdom, because my guards are NOT to be donked with. But with them all distracted, he saw an opening and he FLIPPIN' KIDNAPPED ME!"

"Well, he didn't do a very good job of keeping you kidnapped," said Simon, slinging and reigniting the flamethrower. "He left this in the cell, we can get out easy."

Princess Bubblegum smiled. "Oh, math!"

Simon gave her a confused look. "Huh? What about math?"

She blinked at him. "I just... think that's pretty math."

"...What?"

"Would you just melt the bars?"

"Oh, right, sorry"

Simon directed the flamethrower at the central bars, and let 'er rip. However, after a few moments, the weapon sputtered and died.

"Oh, no, it's out of fuel!" proclaimed Simon, shaking it in annoyance.

"That's okay!" said the Princess, taking a close look at the partially-melted bars. "I think these are thin and slippery enough now for us to get through!" She pushed herself into the gap between two of the bars, and sure enough, squeezed right through. Simon followed suit, first tossing the flamethrower through the bars for her to catch, then forcing himself between.

"Great!" he said as he took the 'thrower back. "Now we can get out of here - no, wait! I need Declan! He might be an annoying, pessimistic jerk, but he's _my_ annoying, pessimistic jerk!"

"And I need my crown..." said PB. "It's got magical properties... the Ice Prince took it down to the lower levels."

"Alright, let's go!" He led the way over to the passage that the Prince had pushed Declan down. It led to a steep, slippery spiral ramp. Simon carefully lowered himself onto the top of the ramp and, being careful to control his speed, started to slowly slide down. The Princess followed his example, and they both began a safe descent.

"So..." Simon said as they slid down. "Tell me about this Ice Prince. He looks like he's just a kid."

"He is, but he's very dangerous. A few months ago he showed up, ranting about how much better the world would be if it was all ice. He tried to destroy the Candy Kingdom in a blizzard, but my guards jacked him up. So he headed up here and froze a huge chunk of land, which he now calls the 'Ice Kingdom...'" she said this last part in a very sarcastic tone.

"He kidnapped me because he wants me to disarm my military, allowing him to freeze the whole deal unopposed! Cha, not gonna happen!"

They reached the bottom of the ramp, where it became a normal, level, straight corridor. There was no sign of Declan. As they kept walking, Princess Bubblegum kept talking.

"Man, as if I didn't have enough to worry about with the Shadow Kingdom, and those separatists, and the Li- well, my point is that the Land of Ooo is bad enough without that little twerp making it worse..."

There were several ice doors in the corridor. From one of them, the pair heard a strange sound as they passed; like someone groaning in misery. They exchanged an uncertain look, before Simon knocked on the door. "Hello? Anyone in there?"

"Ugh..." said a gruff voice coming from inside. "Whoever you are, leave me alone."

Simon looked at Bubblegum, who simply shrugged, and they moved on.

"Do you know how he can do all the ice stuff?"

"I'm pretty sure his magic comes from that crown on his head."

"Magic? Wait... so, if you knocked off the crown, he'd be helpless?"

Her face took on an iffy expression. "Eeeeehhhh... no. There are rumors about the Ice Prince, and lots of misinformation, but one thing all my sources seem to agree on is that he's one BANANAS fighter, even without his powers. And he's SUPER possessive of that crown; if you knock it off, he'll totes flip out and go all rabid badger on your hams."

"...You mean he'll beat me up?"

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"Don't touch the crown, got it."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed a voice from above.

"He's discovered that we've escaped," said Princess Bubblegum, "we've got to hurry! What're you-"

Simon was sprinting to the end of the corridor, where Declan was lying against the wall, surrounded in shattered ice. "Here he is! Ah, he must have slid all the way to end, and then the ice broke when it hit the wall!"

While Simon picked the seemingly unconscious Declan up, Bubblegum looked into a side passage. "Stairs! This must lead down to where he's keeping my crown!"

"Ladies first," Simon said, lifting Declan up across his shoulders.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

That the Ice Prince, who was rather aggressively, not to mention loudly, searching his castle for them, didn't find Simon and PB before they discovered his storage room was somewhat of a miracle in Simon's eyes, especially since he was weighed down with carrying Declan around. Declan, after all, was not a small dog, and Simon was not a tremendously strong man. The storage area itself was large but cramped; it was littered with a very random assortment of items the Ice Prince had collected. Mostly swords.

"C'mon, where is it..." said Bubblegum, searching the room. "Come on..." she tore open a crate and began looking through it.

"Hurry!" said Simon nervously, "the Prince could be here any minute!"

"Ha, found it! No, wait... what's..." she pulled out a small, smooth, spherical green gem. "What the nut? From Slime Princess's crown... why would the Ice Prince have..."

"It doesn't matter, just keep looking!"

"Right..." she opened another crate... but it was too late now.

"THERE YOU ARE!" yelled the Ice Prince, bursting into the room. "HAHAHAHA!"

Princess Bubblegum screamed and dove to the ground just in time as a bolt of ice magic shot from the Ice Prince's hands and right over her head. This gave Simon time to put Declan down and grab something off a nearby shelf; a somewhat old, dented sword that looked like it was made of gold. The Ice Prince had fired a blast at him at the same time, and the bolt and the sword connected in midair, causing the sword to be trapped in ice instead, and fall to the ground.

Having bought himself a moment, Simon slid into the relative cover of a crate, another of the Prince's bolts narrowly missing him. "AAAAAAGGGGHHHH! Why don't you STOP HIDING!"

"Stop hiding!? You're shooting lightning at me!"

"You shouldn't dwell on the negative! You should EMBRACE my wonderful NEW ICE AGE!"

"...Young man, you are completely bonkers."

"DON'T SAY THAT, I DON'T HAVE ANY BONKS! I WILL LOWER THE TEMPERATURE IN THIS ROOM AND _FFFFFRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZEEEE_ YOU OUT!"

The Ice Prince raised his arms and started laughing hysterically, snowy wind circling around him. Taking advantage of this distraction, Simon made his move.

Simon jumped out from his hiding place and began grabbing everything in sight and throwing it all at the Ice Prince. A whole assortment of the objects scattered around the room were tossed, among them an old flute, a round green backpack, and a big pair of fossilized shark jaws. Shrieking in surprise, The Ice Prince began flying from side to side, dodging the objects as they came. Bubblegum, meanwhile, saw what Simon was doing, and decided to help. Seizing a viola from a nearby shelf, she lifted it high and hurled it at the Prince. With the both of them now throwing junk at him, the Prince was having a hard time avoid it all, and kept getting glanced by the debris.

"Ow - YOU NEED TO - ow! - STOP THIS! YOU ARE IN MY KINGD - Ow! - KINGDOM! YOU MUST DO AS I SAY!"

Simon just kept hucking objects, while yelling back. "Principalities! Are not! KINGDOMS!"

The Ice Prince began shooting some of the objects down. "WELL I! RULE! A KINGDOM!"

"Then you're! Not! A PRINCE!"

"YES! I! AM!"

Screaming in rage, the Prince was about to start blasting again, incoming projectiles or not, when the unexpected happened: Declan jumped into the air and grabbed hard onto the Ice Prince's cape with his mouth, roughly tugging the prince down from the air while cutting off his voice with a choking noise as the cape was drawn tight against his throat.

The Ice Prince tumbled to his knees, regaining the ability to breath, and quickly bent his arms around try and blindly fired ice blasts back over his shoulder. To avoid them, Declan jumped over the wizard's head, bringing the cape with him so as to drop it in his face, momentarily blinding him.

Unfortunately, this also knocked off the crown, causing it to slide over to Simon's feet.

The Ice Prince moved the cape out of his face and looked at Simon, who had just reached down to pick up the crown. For a moment, the Prince's face looked shocked and confused, before that expression was replaced by one of rage.

 _ **"DON'T YOU TOUCH MY CROWN YOU TRAAAAAAAAAANCH!"**_

Before Simon do more then look surprised, the Ice Prince threw himself across the room, tackling the antiquarian down another side passage, where the two began to slide down another incline. The Princess and Declan exchanged a surprised look before running after.

Simon and the Ice Prince slid down a steep, spiraling tunnel, grappling with each other over the crown; Simon was finding it hard to concentrate from the Prince's constant shrieking. The tunnel took a sudden uphill swerve, with the combatants moving fast enough already to keep going and crest the hill, causing them to be launched out of a hole in the side of the Ice Prince's castle. The melee ended as they were separated from each other, both flying wildly through the air before crashing down in the snow.

Simon pulled himself up, wiping snow out of his hair, and quickly examined his surroundings. He was back out in the wilds of the Ice Kingdom, and the crown was lying in the snow a few feet away. He was on the coast; not far from him was a high cliff overlooking an overcast ocean. He couldn't see the Ice Prince, but grabbed the crown to be safe. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head...

...Before the Ice Prince popped out of the snow. The preteen spat out a bunch of snow, before looking at Simon and snarling, "YOU!"

He began to advance on the older man, hands clenched into fists and a furious glare on his face. "CROWN! Give it NOW! GIMME GIMME GIMME!"

Simon put on a tougher face then he felt. "You want it? Come and take it!" He turned around and ran for the cliff, the Prince screaming in fury and running after him.

Simon slid to a stop as he reached the cliff, raised the crown up high, and then threw it, as hard as he could, out towards the sea.

" _NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_ screamed the Ice Prince, in a voice that Simon was disturbed to hear sounded full of very genuine anguish. Simon stepped out of the way, just avoiding being run over by the manic boy as he threw himself over the edge after the beloved artifact. Simon stepped back from the edge, hearing the loud splash as the boy made contact with the water.

Despite everything, he found himself genuinely hoping that the kid would survive.

Turning around, Simon saw a Snow Golem standing nearby, holding an armful of pears and gawking at him with an astonished expression. Simon rubbed his head sheepishly. "Um..."

"WOOOOOO!" yelled the Golem in a panicked tone, throwing all the pears aside as it spun around and fled. Simon watched it go, and then shrugged.

As he went to walk back to the castle, he saw Declan bounding through the snow towards him. "Hey! What happened?"

"I threw the crown over the edge, and Ice Prince dove into the water. Hey, thanks for distracting him."

"Oh, yeah, sure." The dog cleared his throat, which Simon hadn't been aware dogs could do. "Um... thanks for coming back for me, I guess."

Simon smiled. "No problem. Where's Princess Bubblegum?"

"Who? Oh, the pink chick? She was right behind me..."

They both looked at the castle just in time to see the Princess emerge, now wearing a golden circlet which jutted upward at the front, holding a round, green gem similar to the one she had found in the box earlier. "Hey, Simon!" she called over, waving excitedly. "I found my crown! Come on, let's get out of here, I'm freezing!"

He walked over to meet her. "Okay, where are we going?"

"I'll take you to my Kingdom, it's safe and not far from here."

Simon coughed something that sounded a bit like 'principality', but then smiled and gestured for her to lead the way.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Later, the three of them wandered out onto the grassy hills, putting the Ice Kingdom behind them. Simon was carrying the flamethrower again, having retrieved it on the way back after dropping it during his scrap with the Ice Prince.

"Man, am I glad to be done with that lunatic." said the Princess. "Listen, Simon the Human, I owe you a great debt for helping me escape. When we return to the castle-"

"I could use some information," Simon said, cutting her off. "A lot of it. About this place, and the kind of creatures, locations, organizations and beings here. Both Declan and I are sort of... erm, new in town, and we've been flying blind up until this point."

She nodded. "I'll tell you whatever you need to know. Did you two escape from the Crimson Farm?"

"Er... no, I don't know what that is."

PB looked surprised. "Oh... but... you're human? How did you end up here?"

"I'm a little unclear on that myself, to be honest... but I need to find answers, and then I need to find my way back home. I have someone waiting for me that I need to get back to."

"Of course. After I tell you what you need, I'll outfit you with some basic supplies."

"I'd appreciate that."

"Well, this is nice." said Declan. "At least the hard part is behind us.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Back in the coastal waters of the Ice Kingdom, a sheet of frost was rapidly expanding across the surface of the sea. Nearby icebergs grew rapidly, and ice swiftly covered the water... until it shattered explosively, the Ice Prince bursting forth, the crown back atop his head. He screamed in anger.

"S... s-s-s-SSSSSSIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNN!"


	3. Chapter 3 - The Enchiridion?

The Candy Kingdom looked rather beautiful at night.

Buildings that during the day looked pink and yellow, at night took on a purplish lighting that complemented the surrounding forests of pink cotton candy nicely. On the outer walls sat three gigantic beings, resembling humanoid gumball machines, who blew enormous bubbles out over the woods. Capping it all off, the centerpiece was Princess Bubblegum's great castle, built around an impossibly massive, gnarled tree.

Simon Petrikov sat atop one of the city's walls, which, to his amusement, seemed to be made of candy just as much as the rest of the kingdom and its citizens. As he watched the great, iridescent bubbles floating out across the treetops, catching the moonlight from above, he reflected upon how the existence of such an amazing place, undiscovered by humankind, was even possible. From what little Princess Bubblegum had told him before she had to leave to debrief her guards, it sounded as though this were a place known interchangeably as "Ooo" or "The Land of Ooo." He had never heard of any such place to be sure, and the Princess claimed not to have heard of any of the locations he mentioned either. Was she lying? No, Simon had a feeling that something stranger was at work here.

He looked up into the night sky, where a great, silver moon dotted with craters sat. Good old Luna. So, he was still on the same planet. Had he somehow traveled into the far future or past? Was this some undiscovered island in the Central Pacific? A lost world hidden deep in Antarctica? At this point, Simon wasn't discounting that he may have entered another dimension.

He stood up and stretched. He was shed of his jacket; the poor thing had spent the last several days being repeatedly drenched in water, coated in sand and having large wads of candy shoved into the pockets, and as such it was now extremely ratty. Thankfully, it had done its job protecting Simon's white dress shirt, so he still had that and his red bow tie. Above all, though, he was most grateful that his glasses had survived the journey. His trousers were rather less comfortable now that the pockets held everything that had been in his jacket before.

Reaching into his pocket, he drew his phone again and turned it on, taking another glance at the photo of himself and his beloved Betty. "I'm coming home. I promise. Even if it takes me a thousand years."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Later that evening, Simon walked the streets of the Kingdom, looking around and seeing the sights.

One thing he had quickly gathered since arriving was that he should keep clear of the Kingdom's guards. As he reflected on this, he could see two of them standing on a nearby street corner. They seemed to be robots, each one distinctly resembling an upside-down gumball machine, with thin, spindly limbs (though the servos at the joints looked deceptively powerful... Simon wondered how fast they could move.) and faces with squinted eyes. These machines were apparently called Rattleballs, though Simon had heard several citizens refer to them as "rattlers", which he guessed was a colloquialism.

What he was certain of, though, was that the Candy People seemed to give them a wide berth, often crossing streets to avoid them or shooting frightened glances towards them. As Simon watched the two rattlers, one of them titled to look back at him. Not wanting to risk provoking them, he moved on.

He approached the Candy Tavern, where Princess Bubblegum had directed him to spend the night. He spotted Declan, sitting on the street corner next to it. Seeing Simon, Declan got up and loped over.

"Hey, Skinny, what's the plan?"

"Tomorrow morning we have a meeting with Princess Bubblegum. She'll tell us all about the Land of Ooo, and outfit us with supplies. Then we can start focusing on finding a way home."

"Wow... I'm really not bothered if we don't figure it out; this place is GREAT. Everything's candy, man! Everything! I mean, I've gotta be really careful not to eat any chocolate, obviously, but..."

"Well, I certainly can't wait to go home. This place is dangerous, and I have someone waiting for me."

"Oh yeah? Girlfriend? Wife?"

Simon looked at the dog pointedly. "Declan... I told you yesterday that I'm engaged."

"Yeah, but... I don't really listen to anything you say, so..."

"That's awfully inconsiderate."

"...Huh? What was that?"

Simon rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Good night, Declan," he said flatly, before heading inside.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

The next morning, Simon was shown up to a room in the main castle by a starlight peppermint wearing a blue tuxedo, where he found Princess Bubblegum waiting for him. It was a large, airy room, with a big circular table, next to which the Princess was standing, holding a long scroll. Several rattleballs stood guard in the room, some of them keeping a close watch on Simon.

"Greetings, Simon the Human!"

"Good morning, Princess, but I should mention, my surname's actually Pet-"

"I have found for you!" she announced grandly, holding up the scroll, "a map of Ooo! Come check this out!"

Simon hurried over as she unrolled the map on the table, and looked at it. His first impression was that, from above, the Land of Ooo looked rather like a bird, with the jagged coastlines shaped to resemble feathered wings, and the unique shape of the northernmost peninsula, which he recognized as the Ice Kingdom, looked somewhat like a beaked head. He could immediately see that Ooo was an island, appearing to be surrounded on all sides by ocean, and that the land was mostly quite green, predominantly a mixture of grasslands and verdant forests. Other things caught his eye, however, like jagged mountains and what appeared to be a vast expanse of arid desert. He also noted Iceberg Lake, where he and Declan had emerged from, and smiled at the confirmation of his theory that it was fed from waters of the Ice Kingdom.

"Here's the Candy Kingdom," Princess Bubblegum pointed out, indicating the northwest corner of the map. "Now, you'll find that almost anywhere in Ooo can be dangerous in the wrong circumstances, but there are some hotspots you should especially be wary of." She pointed to a darkened area of the map just west of the desert area. It looked like it had been drawn in recently. "This is the Shadow Kingdom. Stay away from there. West of it, on the other side of that channel, is the Crimson Farm, you don't want any part of that either. And you already know to give the Ice Kingdom a wide berth."

She took a breath before continuing. "The Badlands can be nasty too, so watch out. The Mountain Kingdom and City of Thieves are good places to go if you need weapons, and of course if you need food or other supplies, check the Grocery Kingdom."

Simon poured over the map. "No, what I really need-" he paused, looking up at her. "...I'm sorry, did you just say Grocery Kingdom? That's a thing?"

"...Well, of course, where else are people going to get groceries?"

Simon opened his mouth to argue, then decided that he had more important battles to fight. "Sorry, what I really need is a source of information, a place where I can learn more about this world."

"Well, there used to be a pretty big library..." PB said uncertainly, rubbing her neck. "Buuuuuut... it got overrun about a year ago. I guess you could try to find the Enchiridion, but that's-"

Simon blinked in surprise. "The Enchiridion? The Enchiridion's here, in Ooo!?"

"...Well, yeah, it's on top of Mount Cragdor. Wait, how do you know about the Enchiridion?"

"I was the one who found it!"

"You found it... on Mount Cragdor?"

"What? No, I mean, I found it on a dig, a couple years ago!" he rubbed his forehead, looking down at the floor. "I thought it was still in a museum..."

"Well, _now_ , it's on top of a mountain, well-protected by traps and tests ensuring that only the most righteous of heroes can claim it."

"Well, whatever the criteria, I need to go find it. That book's full of old secrets, if there's any way for me to find my way home, it's that." he looked back down at the map. "Now, where's Mount Cragdor?"

"There." she said, pointing to an area in the grasslands. "It's a bit of a trip."

"Then I'll be setting off immediately." said Simon. For the first time since he had arrived in Ooo, he had a clearly defined goal that he felt very confident in.

"Very well. I had a pack of supplies made up for you..." she clapped her hands, and the Peppermint Butler brought up a large, dark brown backpack, which Simon slipped on. "And," the Princess continued, "your weapon has been refueled with a candy-based accellerant of my own design, it should last you quite some time. Unfortunately, we have policies about arms here in the Candy Kingdom; aside from myself and my guards, no one may bring weapons within the walls. As such, the flamethrower is being held for you outside the main gate."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Within minutes, Simon was geared up and ready to go. Standing outside the front gate of the Candy Kingdom (with Declan, the Princess, and several rattlers), he double-checked the supplies in the pack, slung the flamethrower, straightened his glasses, and turned to face the plains before him. Declan came up alongside, and Simon looked down at the dog. "Coming with me?"

"Might as well. This place might be tasty, but it gets boring after a while."

"Well, I'll be happy to have the company."

One of the rattleballs stepped up, handing Simon something else: a machete. "You're going to need this," it said in a droning voice, "for the roses." Simon didn't ask what this meant, merely taking the implement and sheathing it in his pack.

"One last thing, Simon the Human." said PB.

Simon and Declan turned to face her, and her face took on a somewhat more serious expression. "Understand this: you saved me from the Ice Prince, and I considered myself indebted to you. But that debt is now paid. I welcome you to return whenever you wish, but I will give you no more free assistance. My resources are too valuable to give away freely, so if you ever want anything more from me or my kingdom, you had best be prepared to owe me in return."

"I understand," Simon said placidly, though in truth he thought this sounded rather harsh; he had been under the impression that they had become friends. She nodded farewell, turned around, and walked back into the Candy Kingdom, her guards following.

Simon turned his head to look out across the calm, sunny grasslands, a light breeze blowing in his hair. "Well?" he asked Declan. "Shall we?"

"Ready when you are."

And with that, man and dog set off.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

The walk to Mount Cragdor was rather uneventful in terms of danger or excitement, but there was much to see. Simon's head was almost on a constant swivel as he took in the many bizarre landmarks and creatures that seemed to inhabit the hills and meadows of Ooo; from more mundane, expectable sights such as patches of forest and multicolored butterflies, to the more unusual ones, like giant snails and a large, bulky humanoid who appeared to be covered in grass. Simon wondered if this was some kind of ambush predator, but all he appeared to be doing currently was chasing a few small creatures that looked oddly like miniature buildings, laughing at them and yelling insults.

Despite his curiosity, Simon kept his distance from all of the oddities for now, having no idea what was dangerous and what wasn't. And all the while, made sure to keep a tight grip on the flamethrower. Declan followed this example, to the extent of being unusually quiet for most of the journey. Until, at any rate, they encountered their first obstacle.

"You know, with all the freaky monsters and wizards running around, I really didn't expect something like this to be what stops us." said the dog, looking at the vast, dense thicket of rose bushes blocking the path. The wall of plants seemed to go on forever in either direction; the bushes making it up ranged anywhere from the height of a small child to nearly that of a one-story house. They looked thick and woody, with black thorns as long as Simon's finger, and deep, blood-red flowers.

"It's not stopping us." said Simon, unsheathing his machete. "The rattleballs gave me this for a reason, after all." He stepped forward, took a breath, and began swinging the blade, hacking away at the foliage.

As Simon began to carve himself a man-sized tunnel through the flowers, Declan cautiously followed; unlike Simon, he had no shoes, and thorns were being scattered everywhere as the antiquarian worked. "So what's the deal with this book, exactly? You said it would help us get home?"

"Indirectly, yes. It's certainly a good first step, at any rate. The Enchiridion is an ancient tome that I discovered on a dig." Simon ducked under an especially thick branch. "It was my first major claim to fame: nobody could figure out who wrote it or why, and there seemed to be little rhyme or reason to the information inside. But it didn't correlate to any known human civilization, which was part of what made it so fascinating. Beyond that, it-"

"Okay, okay, short version, man. How's it going to help us?"

"Well, most of the information in the book- ow, thorn! Ow... anyway, most of it seemed to be written as a kind of manual instructing someone on a sort of clichéd idea of classic heroism, like the prince from a Grimm's tale: telling you how to slay dragons and woo princesses and that sort of nonsense. But reading between the lines - sometimes literally - the book is full of other, stranger information. Incantations of some kind, directions to other artifacts, talk of strange lands. If there's any text on the Earth that can tell us where Ooo is and how you leave it, it's the Enchiridion."

Declan stopped walking, giving the back of Simon's head an annoyed look. "That doesn't sound like the best lead! It might not tell us anything!"

"Well, it's the best we have right now."

"That's so comforting. I'm very comforted. Boy, I'm sure glad I stuck with you, you're such a freaking expert..."

Simon huffed. "Well, it's better than just being a smart alec all the time..." he muttered, aggressively chopping through a small rose bush.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

About an hour later, Simon and Declan, both covered in scratches from their journey through the thicket, stared up in awe at the sight before them. Mount Cragdor wasn't part of ay mountain range; it simply stood alone, a huge, conical peak covered in smaller, spiky peaks, the whole thing carpeted in seemingly endless pine forests. The lower foothills were surrounded in a white stone wall that ringed the entire deal, itself ringed by a thin moat. The only way up to the mountain seemed to be a drawbridge that led to a large gate. "Wow..." said Declan, staring up at the jagged thing. "We have to get all the way to the top of that!? It could take forever!"

Simon agreed that it looked rather daunting, but figured that it was probably best to just stay focused. He adjusted his glasses. "Well, in that case, we'd best get started." He set off across the drawbridge, Declan watching him go. The dog spared the mountain one last concerned look before crossing after his human companion. They quickly reached the gate, a large, wooden affair with an oversized metal keyhole. Standing in front of the gate was what seemed to be a small, yellow man in a sky-blue robe, wearing a strange ornamental headdress that resembled a key that was as tall as he was. As he saw Simon approaching, he began speaking in a very fast, very merry voice.

"Greetings, good hero-to-be! This mountain is called Cragdor, its purpose is twofold: to protect the Enchiridion and to test the hearts of those who seek to possess it! Many noble challengers have entered attempting to pass the grueling trials that lie behind these walls, but no one has ever left here alive or dead! Only the truest, most worthy hero can receive the Hero's Enchiridion and walk outside these doors again! If it is you, friend, OOH-HOO and I cannot say that I am cert-ain! But you are verily welcome to try! However, first you must pass my riddle: my name is Key-Per! And duly so, for I carry the KEY to this door! But not all is as it appears, you see, or per-"

Simon interrupted him. "I'm sorry, but you're the key, right?"

Key-Per stared at him in surprise for a moment. "My word! How ever on earth did you figure it out?"

"Well... you're wearing a big key on your head, and you look about the size of the lock. It wasn't hard."

"I say, you are the first person ever to actually figure it out! Most people simply get through because they figure I would look cute stuffed in the lock!"

"Well... yes, that is also the case. Anyway..." Simon stepped forward, picked Key-Per up, and shoved him into the keyhole, twisting him to the side to unlock the door, which swung open with a great sound. He then removed him. "That didn't hurt you, did it?"

"No, no, no, dear traveler, not at all, not at all! But you should be wary, for this is only the first and easiest of the trials before you, if, and I say only IF you truly do intend to own the Hero's Enchiridion!"

Still holding Key-Per up, Simon looked through the gate at the woodlands beyond. "Don't suppose you'd give me any hints about what to expect?"

"Sorry, but no! The trials are yours, and yours alone to face!"

"Alright, well, thanks anyway, Key-Per." He set him down and nodded to Declan, and the two proceeded into the foothills of Mount Cragdor.

The Key-Per watched as they set off, the gates slowly grinding to a close behind them. He was quite convinced that he would never see them alive again.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

"So what's step two after we find this book?" the dog asked as they worked their way up a wooded incline.

"I study every single corner of it and find every last scrap of information about Ooo, and all the power the Enchiridion possesses."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for us to just, like... start walking until we find our way out of here?"

"Ooo seems to be an island. Surrounded on all sides by-"

"I know what an island is! Okay, we can build a boat then."

"Declan, we can't just set sail in some random direction with no idea where we're going, we could be at sea for months, we could die ages before we come to land!"

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, you're right. Living here in psycho-land, with all the monsters and crazy wizards, for maybe months, maybe _years_ while you have your nose stuck in a prehistoric book sounds like a much better idea."

"The Ench-"

"Really, really great use of our time. And when a dragon or troll or whatever comes knocking, you can just tell them to hold on for a moment, and please be quiet because you're reading."

Simon wheeled around on Declan. "Well, if you hate my plan so much, you don't have to be a part of it! Feel free to go figure things out yourself!"

Declan took a step back; this was the first time he had seen the otherwise rather timid man actually lose his cool.

"Whoah! You have a problem?"

"Do _I_ have a problem!? ME!? Ever since we arrived, you have been nothing but unhelpful and cynical! I am trying to make the best of a bad situation here, and figure out a way to get home, you know, to my _job_ and my _fiancée_! But no, every decision I make just isn't good enough for you! And I am sick and tired of that attitude!"

"Oh, well boo-hoo, four-eyes!" the Husky snapped back. "Maybe if you were actually half capable of leading us out of a paper bag, I wouldn't have to keep trying to get you to do things right!"

"Well, if you think you can do things so much better, go do them better, because I have got too much going on right now to listen to you!"

Simon turned back and continued to hike up the hill, Declan giving him an irritated glare from behind. Soon, the human had vanished into the foliage, and the dog turned around and trotted back down the mountain.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Simon pushed out into a clearing, and set off across a ridge. He already regretted losing his temper with Declan, and he had to admit that "nothing but unhelpful" was far from true considering that the dog had saved his life in the Ice Kingdom. But he was just so ANNOYING, and at the very least Simon felt he needed a break. He had just decided that he would track him down and apologize after retrieving the Enchiridion, when his train of thought was disrupted by some screaming.

"HELP! HEEEEELP!"

Pulled back to reality, Simon ran in the direction of the noise, and saw it's source: in a small pool of hot-looking red liquid, surrounded by low flames, three small beings with tall, pointed hats and insectoid wings were flailing about and screaming in pain.

Simon slid to a stop at the edge of the pool. "Hang on!" he said, dropping his flamethrower and pulling off his backpack. "I'll get you out of there!" Reaching into the pack, he withdrew a length of rope, which he quickly tossed to the Gnomes. They all took hold of the rope, and he pulled them to freedom.

"Thank you, stranger!" said the fairylike beings, lifting into the air on their wings. "Now that you've freed us, we can get back to destroying old ladies!"

"Huh?" asked Simon, confused, as the gnomes took on evil grins and flew over to an old woman standing in the shade (who Simon was sure hadn't been there a moment ago), and then blasted her with green energy beams from their hands, making a loud ZAP! sound. It all happened so quickly, Simon could only blink in surprise, his mouth hanging open, as the old woman vanished in a poof of smoke.

The Gnomes leered evilly at Simon. "Every time you say 'what, why?' We'll destroy an old lady!"

He blinked again. "What, why?"

ZAP! Another geriatric woman was incinerated. Like the previous one, she seemed to pop into existence solely to be annihilated a split-second later. Simon was beginning to strongly suspect that this was some kind of trick.

"Every time you say 'was that just an illusion', we'll destroy an old lady!"

"Wait, was that just an illusion?"

ZAP!

"Every time you say 'that old lady wasn't real', we'll destroy an old lady!"

"That old lady wasn't real, was she?"

ZAP!

"Every time you look mildly annoyed, we'll destroy an old lady!"

Simon raised an eyebrow at the gnomes in faint irritation. He was now about 100% sure that this was all just for show.

ZAP!

"Every time you say 'this is stupid', we'll destroy an old lady!"

"...This is stupid."

ZAP!

"Every time you say 'okay I'm leaving', we'll destroy an old lady!"

"Okay, I'm leaving."

ZAP!

"Every time you turn around and walk away, we'll destroy an old lady!"

ZAP!

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

It was only a few more minutes before Simon encountered his next challenge. Walking through the woods, he heard a deep rumbling in the ground, and saw a nearby pond rippling. "Alright, Simon." he said to himself. "Another heroic trial. All I need is to figure out how to deal with whatever is OH MY WHAT ON EARTH!?"

Simon stared in shock at the monster that had just come into view over the largest treetops: a downright COLOSSAL humanoid, well in excess of ninety feet tall. The giant man was somewhat pot-bellied, with pinkish skin and a babylike face. He wore what appeared to be enormous jeans, and had several large mammals, such as cows and deer, strapped to his body.

Terrified by the awesome sight, Simon wasted no time in scrambling for cover, diving into the bushes to hide. Never in all his life had he even imagined that he would ever see such a massive lifeform, something that put the largest whales to shame. He could feel the earth below violently thrashing with every one of the giant's steps. Hyperventilating slightly, Simon did his best to calm down and reconcile what he had just seen. Such a huge creature... he was wearing clothes, which certainly implied intelligence. And those animals... were they snacks? Was the huge man carnivorous?

"I KNOW YOU'RE HERE SOMEWHERE!" The monster yelled in a somewhat thick voice. "COME OUT SO I CAN EAT YOU!"

 _Well, that answers that question,_ thought Simon. _He doesn't seem very bright, though. I'll just wait here until he leaves._

The Giant Ogre sounded distressed. "GRUH... UNG... WHERE ARE YOU!? I CAN'T FIND YOU! IT'S NOT FAIR!"

Simon just sat in silence, clutching the flamethrower closely.

"COME ON, I'M SO HUNGRY! PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME EAT THIS DEER, THE HORN THINGIES ALWAYS GET STUCK IN MY TEETH, IT'S SO ANNOYING!"

Simon took a relieved breath at the Ogre's incompetence; it was looking increasingly unlikely that he would ever be found. Until he smelled smoke.

Simon saw his mistake: deep within the bush, he had forgotten to switch the flamethrower off, and the small flame at the tip had lit the branches on fire. "Oh crumbs!" proclaimed Simon, jumping out of the foliage in a panic, only to look up and see to his horror that the colossus was looking down at him. "UGH... THERE YOU ARE, FRIEND! THANKS FOR COMING OUT, THAT'S SO MATH!" He reached a massive, hairy hand down towards Simon, ready to scoop him up and devour him.

"Ah! No!" Simon yelled, aiming his weapon upward and pulling the trigger. A huge gout of flame was spat from the flamethrower, blasting the Ogre's hand, which immediately recoiled.

"OOOOOOOOOWWWWIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!" yelled the titan in a whine, clutching his burned hand in pain while tears the size of beach balls welled in his eyes. "THAT HURT, YOU MEANIE!"

But Simon was already fleeing. The Giant Ogre didn't bother to pursue, simply watching him go while nursing his hand and sobbing.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

It was several hours, close to sunset, before Simon reached the summit. Having been climbing the steepest part of the mountain in shadow for what felt like ages, all while constantly looking over his shoulder to ensure that he wasn't being pursued by anything dangerous, had left the scrawny antiquarian very, very winded. Upon reaching his destination, he immediately collapsed onto his backpack, breathing heavily. As he did, he looked around at his surroundings. The top of the mountain was tipped with a multi-tiered gray brick building, overgrown with vines so thick and ancient that they seemed to have practically turned into trees. An ominous entry passage sat in the center of the wall, showing darkness within.

After collecting himself and drawing his second wind, Simon got to his knees and got into his backpack, removing and activating a flashlight. Adjusting his glasses, he started to walk down the passage.

Soon, he found himself in a wide passageway, where the same thick, treelike vines from outside had grown into the passage in an oddly symmetrical formation, almost like they were meant to act as supports. More unsettlingly, though, each one had large holes in it, and from each hole hung an arm, seemingly made out of cloth from the stitched-together look of them, holding a dagger. Simon felt a bit of a chill at the strange sight, but pressed on, swiveling the flashlight around.

" _Congratulations, Simon Petrikov..."_ said a sinister-sounding voice from the end of the passage. Simon directed the light there quickly, while his other hand gripped the flamethrower tightly.

At the end of the corridor, emerging from a cloud of violet smoke, came a figure completely shrouded in a dark, tattered robe, with thin, skeletal hands emerging from the sleeves and glowing red eyes and a large, sharp-toothed mouth both visible under the ragged hood.

"You must be truly righteous to have made it this far."

Simon cleared his throat. "If you say so. I've come for the Enchiridion."

As the cloaked figure spoke, Simon began to feel the pull of sleep tugging at his senses.

"Then enter my Brain World, and I'll show you some aspect of yourself that you're _not entirely aware of."_

Simon felt for a moment like he was passing out, and the next thing he knew, he was standing in a strange world of shadows, surrounding by inky smoke, while the crimson eyes and grinning mouth of the specter from the corridor sneered down at him from above. "For your final trial... SLAY THE BEAST!"

Something huge and heavy hit the ground next to Simon, causing him to stagger away in surprise. Looking up, he saw what it was: a gigantic human heart, nearly as big as an elephant, walking on spindly little legs and wearing a sash around its waist. It had two other limbs: a mass of tentacles forming a sort of makeshift arm on one side, and on the other, an actual, skeletal human arm shrouded in glowing purple energy.

"Ah!" Simon yelled, diving out of the way as it brought a bony fist down in an attempt to flatten him.

Scrambling back to his feet and walking backwards to put as much distance between them as he could, he watched the Beast nervously while reaching for his weapon... but it wasn't there. He didn't seem to have the flamethrower in here, or his pack or flashlight. Sweating cold, Simon looked nervously at the approaching Beast, which wobbled unsteadily as it pursued him. That caught Simon's attention: the thing sure seemed top-heavy...

Simon adjusted his glasses as he got an idea. The Heart-Beast raised its tentacle arm this time, once again preparing to reduce Simon to paste. Simon dodged as the appendage smashed into the ground, but this time he went towards the creature, not away. Running up to it, Simon yelled and directed what strength he had left into a kick towards one of the monster's knees. Now, Simon Petrikov had never been a physically imposing man to be sure, and he had never, in fact, tried to kick anyone or anything in his life. But despite this lack of training, he felt confident that this one kick would be all he needed.

After all, physics were on his side.

The blow knocked the thin, spindly leg out from under the creature, which immediately threw it far off balance. Desperately trying to right itself, the monster spun in place on a single leg, both arms thrashing wildly before it fell to the ground hard, bursting into a shower of torn muscle as the energy around its bone arm died.

Simon stumbled backwards, breathing hard from exertion as he examined his good work.

"Well done!" said the spectral figure. "Now, for your final, FINAL test, (Simon gave him an annoyed glare at this) you must SLAY THIS ANT!"

An ant appeared on the floor. Simon gazed down. It wasn't a giant, acid-spitting ant. It wasn't a ghost ant or a mutant ant or a talking ant flying a helicopter. It seemed to simply be... an ant.

"This seems too easy." said Simon. "There's gotta be more to it then this..."

"What are you, a hippie!? Slay the ant!"

Simon stroked his chin, thinking. The Key-Per had said that each of the challenges would test his heroism. In hindsight, Simon decided that he should have been paying more attention to that sort of thing... the Gnomes with their illusions was probably supposed to be some kind of convoluted test of morality, and the Giant Ogre... courage maybe? That could also be the Heart Monster... so what was the test here? It couldn't be about courage, not unless the ant suddenly transformed into a five-headed demon baby made of garden gnomes, or something equally horrific...

So, it was a moral test, then. But what kind? Simon thought back to what he had read in the Enchiridion, after he had uncovered it. It rattled on quite a bit about traditional black and white morality... Simon turned to the ghastly arbiter.

"Is this ant... evil?

"Ahhh... no. But it's not good, either, it's... neutral! Will ya slay it?"

Simon nodded to himself, now fairly confident that he understood what he was meant to do.

"No. I will not slay it. I refuse."

"Do you want the Enchiridion or not, nerd!? SLAY THIS UNALIGNED ANT!"

Simon folded his arms. "Nope. Won't do it. Can't make me."

"Oh, you think not!?"

The Brain World collapsed, dissolving into smoke as Simon found himself back in the passage, wearing his equipment once more. The wraith lunged at him, cackling wildly with hands outstretched. Reacting too slow to aim, Simon brought his flamethrower up and simply smashed the ghast in the face, immediately causing him to dissolve into smoke and ash. As Simon stumbled back, coughing, a door at the end of the passage opened, causing cool night air to enter and blow away the remains of the evil being. From the door, the Key-Per emerged, inexplicably wearing what appeared to be a Devil costume, red and horns and all. He was even carrying a pitchfork.

"Well done, hero! You've completed all the tasks!"

"Key-Per? Why... why are you dressed as Abaddon?"

"These are my pajamas! I was sleeping, but I was awoken by your completion of the final task!"

"...And the pitchfork?"

"We had spaghetti for dinner."

"We?"

"Ah, of course! Noble hero, meet... Mannish Man, the Manly Minotaur!"

Another being entered through the door; large and imposing, he was excessively muscular and had the head of a bull, with great horns and a nose ring. It was a testament to the strangeness of Ooo that Simon didn't even blink at this sight. What did catch his attention was that this minotaur looked... rather angry.

"You!" yelled Mannish Man. "You cheated!"

"I beg your pardon!?" asked Simon, taken aback. "I did no such thing!"

"Yes you did!" said Mannish, while Key-Per backed quietly out of the door. "You didn't show any heroic attributes at all! All you did was trick your way through the tests by being... being... CLEVER and WITTY!"

"So!?"

"So!? So, that's not what heroes do! Heroes fight monsters and save pilgrims from giant scorpions! They don't sit around thinking all day!"

As a philosophical doctor, this actually offended Simon somewhat. "I'll have you know that some of the greatest heroic acts in history have been executed by people like me! The discovery of penicillin! The invention of atomic power!"

"Those are not the kind of people the Enchiridion is for! You can't have it!"

Simon Petrikov did not think of himself as an angry man. Far from it. Most of his life, he had gone out of his way to avoid conflict. Some of his college friends had even called him 'Simpering Simon.' Usually, when there was a problem, he would go out of his way to find the most peaceful, diplomatic solution. But as this Minotaur stood in front of him, accusing him of solving the challenges that he had spent _all day_ solving, that he had _risked his life_ to solve, _the wrong way_ , and told him that he couldn't have the one thing in the entire world he wanted, that he _needed_ if he was ever going to see the love of his life again, because of an ancient, archaic and borderline barbaric system of morals, Simon felt _angry._ Really angry.

He began to advance on the Minotaur, who, incidentally, was thrice his size to be conservative. "Now you listen to me! That book practically _belongs to me_! I'm the one who spent three weeks living in a tent and surviving on cold beans, staring at echolocation screens just to verify that it was down there, and that was _before_ we started digging! I paid OUT OF MY OWN POCKET to see it shipped back to New York when Museum politics stopped us from getting the funds! And now, in a time when no one else needs it for _anything,_ when it's not on display or being studied, it's just sitting on a mountain being GUARDED, I alone in the whole world _ACTUALLY NEED THE FREAKING THING -_ " Mannish Man was backing away in surprise, stunned at the furious outburst from the red-faced man that he had taken as rather meek - "because it may well be the ONLY WAY I _ever_ see my soon-to-be-wife again, and get out of this acid-trip-driven nightmare you call your home country, you're going to tell me that after I spent an entire day trekking across a place more dangerous than I even thought was possible and hiking up a mountain swarming with traps and monsters, THAT I CAN'T HAVE IT!?"

Mannish Man was all the way against the wall now, actually shrinking in fear from the furious scientist. "You know what, Mannish? You're absolutely right about me! I'm not a fighter, or a soldier, or a knight, or even a hero. I'm just a lost man trying to get home. But you know what? Even despite that, I conquered every single challenge you threw in my face! If anyone in the universe is worthy of that book, it's me!"

"...Okay, man, take it back a notch! Jeez... I didn't know about all that junk, okay?" The Minotaur rubbed his head awkwardly while Simon stepped back, taking a deep breath. Mannish cleared his throat and continued. "Look, um... I'll tell you what, I think we can make a deal here. Come with me." Mannish stepped out the door, and Simon, after a moment, followed.

They were under a vast, velvety night sky, in a sort of glade that seemed to be the very peak of Mount Cragdor. Looking around, Simon found that he could see endless stretches of forest, and a distant coastline. Mannish led him over to a picnic table, where sat several of the old women that the Gnomes had blasted earlier. Simon wondered briefly if they could teleport, but found that he actually didn't care; it had been a long day, and he was in a bad mood. One thing did strike his interest, though.

"How were you able to monitor my progress on the way up?" he asked Mannish. The Minotaur simply pointed up to a small, floating yellow sphere a couple meters above the table. Looking closely into the bubble, Simon could see the Giant who had tried to eat him, now sitting in a pond cooling his hand while blubbering through pathetic tears.

"Alright, so..." Mannish reached under the table and withdrew the Enchiridion. "Here it is." Simon immediately recognized the tattered-looking tome, with its ornate cover depicting a bird, skull, grapes and dagger surrounded by a ring of gemstones, underneath a great black title. "Now, listen up." said Mannish. "Based on what you've told me, I think it would be right to give you this, but... there have to be terms."

Simon crossed his arms, waiting for the minotaur to continue.

"...You have to swear right now, swear on your life, that you'll never use this book for evil, or selfish greed. You can use it to further your own ends, in the form of getting back what you've lost, but never to the point of harming the noble or innocent. Is that clear?"

"Yes. I can accept those conditions."

"Very well, Simon the Human, I grant you... the Hero's Enchiridion."

Mannish handed the book over, and Simon took it. As soon as the rough, heavy thing was in his hands, Simon felt a weight lift from his chest. All the work, and risk and danger had paid off. Less then a week in Ooo, and he was already one step closer to finding his way home.

"Mannish Man... thank you. You won't regret this."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

After granting Simon a free teleport back to the foot of the mountain, Mannish Man and Key-Per sat at the table, thinking. Mannish leaned forward, rubbing his brow. He wondered if he had just made a mistake. He should have warned Simon about the dangers he now faced, and hated that he was forbidden to. Key-Per frowned at him. "You know... the Prince isn't going to be happy about this. And neither is _she,_ if she finds out."

"I know. Do me a favor, first thing in the morning, go let Billy know, will you?"

"Of course."


	4. Chapter 4 - Rolly the Snow Cone Guy

Simon awoke to something cold striking his forehead. He sat up quickly, which proved to be a mistake as he smacked his head into something hard. "Ah! Ow!" Shuffling back onto wet grass, Simon rubbed his head in pain. He blinked in confusion before getting his bearings: he was in the grasslands on a cool morning, having spent the night under a low rock shelf.

He could see water dripping from the shelf; he assumed that a drop was what had awoken him, and that he had promptly banged his head on the low shelf. Sighing at his rude awakening, he crawled back into his makeshift den to retrieve his gear, smearing grass stains along his pants. After getting his pack and flamethrower together and having a quick, unsatisfying breakfast of trail mix, he set off for the Candy Kingdom.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

The main gate of the Kingdom was, as before, guarded heavily; ten rattleballs stood before the gate itself, and a massive gumball guardian watched from on high, sitting casually on the outer wall. Simon walked up, holding his hands up peacefully and away from the flamethrower. Two of the rattlers disengaged from their formation, shooting forward with astonishing speed to meet him halfway, sliding to a stop on the damp grass and blocking his path.

"Weapon." One of them demanded in a monotone voice.

"Of course, I know the drill." said Simon, handing it over. "You'll hold it for when I come back out, right?"

"Of course." said the robot, taking the flamethrower.

"How do you remember which weapon belongs to whom?"

"We have perfect recall in our robot brains. You may enter."

The gate swung open, and Simon went through, hands in his pockets. As he entered the Candy Kingdom's High Street, he reflected on his plans while he was here: he needed supplies, which meant he'd need to trade services or the salvage he'd collected in his travels so far. But first, he needed to find Declan. He felt bad for blowing the dog off, and had decided that whatever their differences, the two would need to stick together and cooperate if they were ever going to get back home. So, he scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of the talking dog. In the vibrant and multicolored crowds of candy that were walking around, he was assuming that it probably wouldn't be hard to pick out the relatively dull colors of a Siberian Husky.

As he went along, however, Simon found himself paying more attention to the Candy People as they lived their lives. For as surreal as it still was to accept that he was looking at sentient, anthropomorphic candy, it was quite fascinating to find that they still were, basically, people in their behaviors and mannerisms. Oh, sure, some of them at times seemed a bit airheaded and flighty, but for the most part they honestly acted surprisingly human. As Simon walked up the street, he observed a pair of gumdrops that seemed to be gossiping cheerfully, a candy cane man who seemed to be coming home tired after working a nightshift, his briefcase heavy in hand from how he listed to the side, and a pound cake in scrubs looking wistfully at some nice clothes in a shop window.

Perhaps the most poignant of all, likely due to striking rather close to home for Simon, was the sight of a pair of soft drink people, seemingly husband and wife, standing in the doorway of their home; the husband seemed packed for travelling, and the two were exchanging a tearful farewell. Simon sighed heavily at this little vignette, but shook his head and did his best to refocus on his current purpose.

This, however, was disrupted further by a rather distinct "Psst!" from a nearby alley. Blinking in surprise, Simon looked, but whoever was in the alleyway was shrinking back into the shadows. He squinted to try and make them out, but in the still soft morning light it was too difficult to penetrate the gloom. So, looking around nervously, Simon began to walk into the alley. He weighed the danger in his mind, and remembered that weapons weren't allowed here, and it was highly unlikely for any malcontent to cause trouble within the city; the rattlers were creepy to be sure, but Simon couldn't deny their apparent effectiveness: he hadn't seen any signs of crime, at all, in his time here.

Within the shadows, the antiquarian came face to face with the mystery figure: it seemed to be another candy person, a multicolored snow cone with thin legs and arms coming from the cone, and a worried-looking face set into the slush part.

"Were you followed?" he asked in a somewhat weedy voice, while ringing his hands. "Did any rattleballs see you come in here?"

"No, I don't think so. Do I know you?"

"No... no. But I'm pretty sure I know who you are... you're the human everyone talks about, right? Simon?"

"That's right. And you are?"

The snow cone cleared his throat. "I'm Rolly. I'm... mmm..." He still seemed extremely nervous, and kept looking around. It would have put Simon on edge as well, if Rolly didn't seem so timid.

"It's alright, we're alone here." said Simon. "If you have something important to tell me, you don't have to worry."

"I do... it's just... I worry. The smallest mistake or infraction can bring a horrible fate..."

"Those rattleballs really seem to have everyone afraid."

Rolly wiped his forehead, a bit of colored syrup coming away. "Yes... yes, they are quite... look, I want you to understand that I wouldn't be here if it wasn't a matter of life and death. I believe that Princess Bubblegum has lied to you. I believe she has some manner of... conspiracy against you."

Simon frowned. He had had some trouble getting a good read on the Princess when they met. Between that and her byzantine security... it didn't sound farfetched at all that she may be hiding something, though the idea that she was already hostile to Simon was unexpected. He decided it was best to learn more. "Okay." he said, sitting down on a trash can. "Tell me what you know."

Rolly sat down as well, against a wall that had a large, graffitied snake on it. He took a moment to collect himself, breathing deeply. "Alright... here we go." He met Simon's eyes. "I was taking a stroll through the royal gardens, when I overheard her talking to a few guards. She said that they should watch out for 'the human' if he returns, and especially make sure that he doesn't get into the castle, or he... that is to say, you, would find out about the captive."

"Captive? Well, that doesn't make sense, the only person in Ooo with any connection to me is... is..." Simon's eyes widened. "Declan! Of course! She must have captured him to learn more about me! She's probably suspicious that I have something to do with this... this Crimson Farm, whatever that is. What is the Crimson Farm, anyway?"

"It's where all the humans are. Well, most of them. But, what do you intend to do about this?"

Simon looked down at the peanut-brittle pavement, thinking hard. "It's my fault that Declan came back here alone; I lost my temper at him, and I shouldn't have. Helping him is my responsibility." He adjusted his glasses. "I'm going to save him."

"What!?" asked Rolly, wearing a mortified expression. "That's insanity! The whole palace is full of rattleballs! You don't have any weapons!"

Simon stood up, brushing his shirt off. "I'm just going to have to figure something out. I can't just leave Declan behind, he saved my life from the Ice Prince."

Rolly blinked in surprise at Simon, and wrung his hands nervously again. "Well... I suppose I'll come with and help."

"Are you sure? It'll be extremely dangerous, you said so yours-"

"I know a secret way it. There's a passage... the Princess knows it's there, but she leaves it unguarded to avoid drawing attention to it. I can show you."

"Alright then, I appreciate it, Rolly." Simon helped the snow cone up, and they started walking.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Harsh sunlight broke into pitch darkness as Simon and Rolly pulled open a cellar-like door leading down into a brick passage. Simon drew his flashlight and panned it around; their were six steps leading down to a damp-looking stone floor, in a passage about ten feet wide. "Well, this is a bit unsettling... come on." He led the way, going down the stairs and starting down the passage while Rolly followed, closing the door behind them and sinking the tunnel into darkness aside from Simon's light. The snow cone began to walk after the human, looking around nervously while still ringing his hands.

Simon kept an eye on where he was walking while he went. "So... how do you know about this passage?"

"Oh... I know a guy who's tried to sneak in before."

"That right? Who?"

Rolly looked away, an unhappy expression on his face. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Simon cringed; he should have figured it would be a sore spot, as whoever it was had most likely been killed in the attempt. "Sorry, I won't ask again. Do you know if we'll run into danger at the end?"

"Well, I know the castle itself will be crawling with rattleballs, but I think this passage is clear."

Just then, they passed what appeared to be a skeleton chained to the wall. Simon cleared his throat nervously. "Well... that's good. Very... very good."

They kept going for awhile, lulled into silence by the ominous sight, before reaching the end, and a door. Simon switched off his light. "Alright, I'm going to crack the door, just a bit. Be ready to run." Rolly nodded, and Simon did as he had said, pushing the wooden door open just slightly and pressing his face against it, peering through with one bespectacled eye. Outside was a perfectly plain, well-lit corridor with yellow brick walls and dark carpeting, typical of the Candy Castle. Far at the end of the passage, two rattlers were rounding the corner, walking out of sight.

"Alright, come on!" Simon grabbed Rolly's arm and pulled him through, before turning to shut the door quietly. They were in.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Sneaking through the castle was, without a doubt, easier said than done. Simon and Rolly had to keep their wits about them at all times, slipping from room to room and passage to passage often just in the nick of time, as the rattleballs seemed to be around every corner, always patrolling in pairs. The two weren't even making any progress in finding Declan; they weren't able to plan where they were going because they kept having to sneak into new areas just to avoid getting caught. But Simon was beginning to notice something that worked in the duo's favor: the rattlers themselves were _remarkably_ predictable. They stuck to their patrols with rigid timing like clockwork, which, to someone as attentive as Simon Petrikov, made them rather easy to memorize.

Simon sat on the floor of the broom closet, arms around his knees, while Rolly kneeled before the door, staring through the keyhole. Simon opened his phone and began watching the clock. "Alright, in about forty seconds, that patrol should move away again. Once they do, we can make a break for the stairs, and then we'll finally be cooking with gas."

"We're not going to light a fire, are we?"

"Huh? No, it's just an expression, it means we'll be able to make some progress." He put the phone away, then just twiddled his thumbs, looking at Rolly from behind. He noted a strange hole in the back of Rolly's upper, spherical part of his body, the actually snow part. He briefly wondered what it was for; he really was interested to learn more about how these Candy People functioned.

"Where are we headed, exactly?" he asked.

"Well, once we can move around, I guess we should find some kind of control room, so we can find out where they're keeping your friend."

"Hmm... something like that would probably be up high. We'll go upstairs, see what we find."

"Alright, sounds good. So you really seem to want to save this dog, huh?"

Simon sighed. "Yeah. I haven't known him long, but we've actually been through a surprising amount in that short time. We had a disagreement, though... I definitely overreacted, but in my defense, he was _really_ getting on my nerves."

"I can understand that. Sometimes the people we're close to can anger us more than the ones we hate. I know I don't always get along with my father... Oh! They're leaving! The rattlers are gone!"

"Great!" said Simon, jumping to his feet. "We have a minute and forty-four seconds before they get back, let's go!"

They moved fast and quiet, running down the corridor to the door at the end, which let them into a spiral staircase, where they immediately slowed down and started to creep upward. At the next door, Simon crouched and peered through the keyhole.

"What do you see?"

At the end of the passage was a metal door guarded by two rattleballs. "Looks like it could be a control room..." said Simon. "Here, what do you think?" He got up, allowing Rolly to take his spot and look through.

"Yeah... yeah, I'd say that's it. But those bots don't look like they're leaving."

"Any idea when the next shift change is?"

"Nope."

"Well... shoot. We need a plan... like some way to distract them."

"Think we can get through here unseen?" Rolly asked.

"Only if we're quick... come on!" They went through the door fast, ducking into a side room. One of the rattlers did a double-take, before turning to his partner and speaking in a droning, robotic voice. "Did you just see a human and a snow cone come through that door?"

"Dude. You need to lay off the electricity. It janks with your circuits."

Simon and Rolly looked around the room they had entered: it seemed to be a chemistry lab. "This must be one of Princess Bubblegum's laboratories..." said Rolly. "She's quite a scientist."

Simon walked past one of the tables, examining the equipment. "It's very well-stocked... you know what? This might be perfect. I'm not a chemist, but I did rather well in high school science, I should be able to whip up something that will make a perfect diversion."

"Like what?"

"Say... a compound that ignites on contact with air. We toss a flask of it out the window, and it shatters down on the castle grounds, making an explosion. All the rattleballs will run to investigate, they'll probably think the Kingdom's under attack. By the time they figure out it was a false alarm-"

"We'll already be done in the control room. Perfect!"

"I'll get to work, but I'll need an extra pair of hands. There, bring me that burner..."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Being as quiet as they could to work without alerting the guards outside meant that it took them nearly half an hour to get the compound together. As they worked, they conversed.

"So, Rolly, if you don't mind, I actually had some questions about candy people. It's all a pretty new concept to me, and I'm really wondering how you guys function."

"Shoot."

"What do you eat?"

"Other candy. Not living, just the inert stuff, like what the buildings are made of."

"Alright, makes sense. What's that hole in your back?"

"Huh? Oh, in my back? That's for air. It lets air in."

"Oh, neat."

"Yeah, it's math."

Simon stopped what he was doing and looked at the snow cone. "Okay, I'm sorry, but why does everyone keep saying that? Does the word "math" have some different meaning here I just don't know about?"

"Oh, yeah, it means like 'cool' or 'great'."

"Ooooohhhh... okay, a lot of stuff just started making more sense, thank you. Aha!"

Simon lifted up a sealed glass flask full of a clear liquid. "There we go! All I need to do is break the glass, and this will go up rather loudly... shouldn't hurt anyone, as long as we don't do it near them."

"Alright, then let's do this."

Cradling the mixture carefully, Simon crossed the room to the window, opened it, and looked below to a grassy, sunny courtyard; there didn't appear to be anyone down there. He held out the flash, and dropped it. Five stories it fell before striking the grass and bursting into a flash of fire, creating a loud explosion that could most likely be heard across the entire castle.

Back at the control room door, both of the rattlers turned and looked in the direction of the noise. "What the blood?" asked one. "Are we under attack?"

"We must investigate! The Princess could be in danger!"

Their hands went to their hilts as both of them shot down the passage at astonishing speed, vanishing into the spiral staircase. Once they had passed, Simon and Rolly emerged from the lab, looked around, and jogged to the door.

"It worked!" said Simon elatedly. "Oh, I can't believe it worked!"

"We're not done." said Rolly. "Listen, I'm going to go in and find what we need, you stay out here and keep watch, okay?"

Simon nodded. "I'll yell if the rattlers come back."

Rolly grabbed the doorknob and hurried inside, with Simon only gaining the briefest glimpse of the small, dark control room within before Rolly shut the door behind him. Taking a breath, Simon turned around and put his back to the door, watching the corridor. He could hear pandemonium and yelling from elsewhere in the castle, filtering up through the stairwell. He listened closely, but was still caught by surprise when the door at the end of the hall opened... and Declan trotted through. The dog did a double-take upon seeing Simon, then addressed him in an astonished tone.

"What are you doing here!?"

"Me!?" asked Simon, just as shocked as he was. "How did you escape!?"

"Escape? Escape what?" As Declan came up to Simon, there were several loud crashes from below.

"What do you mean, 'escape what?' Escape the dungeon!"

"...Why would I be in the dungeon?"

"Because Princess Bubblegum captured you!"

 _"Why would Princess Bubblegum capture me!?"_

 _"Because she wants to capture me!"_

Declan stared at him in baffled amusement for a moment before speaking again. "Okay, at some point here, you're going to start making sense, right? Dude, Bubblegum invited me here, because she wanted my help finding you!"

"Huh? Why?"

"Because... hang on... why are you standing here in front of this door?"

Realization dawned on Simon as he started to consider his situation. He had been duped. "I... I may have... _possibly_ made a... small mistake."

"...What kind of mistake?"

Simon slowly turned around to face the control room door. He opened it and stepped inside.

Rolly was facing the door, standing in front of the monitors, which all read "rattleballs offline" in flashing red letters. Rolly had a sad, hurt look on his face, and seemed to be melting slightly. "I'm soooooorry..." he said in a distorted voice. "I dint wanna dooooo thiiiiiiiissss... he's maaaaaaakiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnggggg meeeeeeeeeeeeee..."

Simon and Declan watched in horror as Rolly's face began to sag and multicolored water began to drip down his cone. A pair of blue-skinned hands emerged from within the snow and grabbed the edges of the cone as something began to emerge from within... a chill went up Simon's spine as he started to hear high-pitched laughter...

"Hee... hihihi... AHEHEHEHEHE... AHHHHHH-HAHAHA! GUESS WHO'S BACK, DORKS! HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!"

As the lumpy, melted remains of the snow cone began to pool on the floor, the Ice Prince stood up from within them, his white hat and blue outfit dripping with multicolored sugary syrup. As usual, he wore a maniacal, sharp-toothed grin and pointed yellow crown.

"Now, to just... GET THIS OFF!" He clapped his hands together, creating a huge blast of wind in every direction that splattered Rolly's remains everywhere, instantly dried the Prince's clothes, and threw Simon and Declan back out of the room, causing them to slide helplessly down the corridor.

After sliding to a stop, they began to regain their bearing, Simon rubbing his bruised head while Declan turned to speak to him. "Soooooo... the Princess wanted to find you because she received intel that Ice Prince was about to try and attack."

"You don't say."

"NO, I SAY!" Screamed the Ice Prince, floating out of the room and towards them, wearing a sinister grin as his hands crackled with lightning. "From now on, EVERYTHING I SAY GOES, because I'm going to RULE OVER ALL OF OOO! HAHAHAHA! You took me straight to the master control circuit for the robots, and I shut them OFF! ME! And AFTER I _KILL YOU_ , I'LL TAKE CONTROL OF THEM! An ARMY of WINTER KNIGHTS, to help enforce my PERPETUAL ICE AGE! HAHAHAHAHA!"

"Hey, say that a little louder, kid," said Declan, "I'm not sure they heard you in Australia."

" _Shut it!"_ the Prince snapped, firing ice blasts at them. Unlike last time, however, Simon and Declan both knew what to expect, and moved out of the way in time, throwing open the door and bolting down the spiral stairs to escape the lunatic child.

As they ran down, Simon yelled "What do we do!?" He was answered not by Declan, but by the Ice Prince as he burst through the door after them.

"You do nothing but DIE! HAHAHA!" Rather then taking the stairs, the boy simply launched down the middle, summoning a short sword made of ice in his hand and lunging towards Simon, who saw the attack coming, but didn't have time to form a solid defense. In danger of getting cut open, Simon did something foolish: he simply dove off the stairs, throwing himself down the middle of the well. He hit the landing with a loud thud and a groan of pain; it was, thankfully, only about a ten foot drop.

To Simon's credit, this seemed to genuinely take the Prince by surprise; he landed on the stairs where Simon had just been, still clutching his ice sword, and watched from above with a dumbfounded expression as Simon pulled himself to his hands and knees, groaning and wiping some blood from his mouth. Knowing that he hadn't bought himself long, the antiquarian checked the damage: his left arm and leg both hurt, but neither appeared to be broken; he had a fat lip and his glasses were cracked. But he was alive, and he could move, as Declan, who had reached the landing as well, reminded him. "Come on, get up, we have to go!"

Simon didn't need telling twice, scrambling to his feet fast, and man and dog both ran out of the door as the Prince scowled and prepared for another attack, leaping down deftly after them. He wasn't quick enough, however, as Simon and Declan made it through the thick peanut-brittle door and slammed it shut behind them, Simon locking it from his side. "AAAAAAHHHHHH! YOU THINK THIS WILL HOLD ME FOR LONG, PUNKS!?" Simon heard the Prince begin screaming wildly, and felt the door shudder as the surprisingly strong 12-year-old began throwing his weight against it.

"We need to find help!" said Simon, to which Declan nodded agreement. They looked around; the passage they had entered had several rattleballs in it, all lying limp on the floor, unmoving.

"Wow..." said the dog. "He really did shut them all down..."

"Yeah... we might be on our own."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Back upstairs in the control room, everything was a mess. Water, slush and ice were splattered everywhere, and multicolored syrup stained the walls and ceiling. The only source of light was the monitors, which were now flickering badly, causing the room to rapidly oscillate between harsh white light, harsh red light, and complete darkness.

And in that gloom, barely visible if anyone were to observe it, the slush began to move. Water slithered across the floor to pool together, and shaved ice began to bubble and distort. Slowly, the half-melted remains of Rolly the Snow Cone Guy began to flow together in the center of the room, joining into a single, barely cohesive mound of slush. This mound, nearly the size of a person, extended upward in the shape of an arm, grasping for help that would not come, as the ice began to vibrate enough to create a sound.

A twisted, distorted scream.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Simon bent down to pick up one of the rattlers' swords, a thin rapier. He held it up, examining it critically.

"Don't suppose you fenced in high school?" asked Declan.

"Chess club."

"Great."

"We need to find Princess Bubblegum. She might know how to bring the robots back online."

"Oh, I can find her."

"What? How?"

"...I'm a Siberian Husky?"

Declan sniffed the ground several times in quick succession. "Got her. One story down, let's rock."

"Lead the way."

The dog bounded off, and Simon quickly followed. It was only a few seconds after they cleared the corner that the Ice Prince burst through the door, shattering it outward in a burst of snowy wind. He floated out into the passage and looked around quickly, his hair whipping about. "Where'd you go, Simon..."

He began flying along swiftly, searching for the human and the dog.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Simon and Declan emerged from another door on the next level down, and immediately spotted Princess Bubblegum stepping over a deactivated rattler. "There you two are! What the _junk_ is going on with my FREAKING ROBOTS!?"

"It's the Ice Prince, he shut them down!" said Simon. "We were hoping you'd know how to get them going again?"

She stroked her chin. "Maybe... I did put a remote access point downstairs in case of something like this happening. From there, I could force a hard reboot of all rattleballs, but it'll take some time."

"TOO BAD YOU'RE OUT!" Screamed a voice, as the Ice Prince appeared outside a nearby window, before lowering his head and smashing through with the crown, ram style.

Simon raised the sword by reflex, and Declan bared his teeth. The Prince leered at all three of them, grinding his bladelike teeth. "You just don't understand... you don't see the b-b- _BEAUTY OF IT_! A world of ICE AND SNOW, WONDEROUS WINTER FOREVER! To stand in my way, you must be demons... and _I slay demons_!" He laughed. "I AM A HERO AFTER ALL! HAHAHAHAHA!"

Princess Bubblegum shot Simon a significant look and made to back out of the room, but the Prince raised his hands at her. "NO YOU DON'T! You have defied me for far too long, your veins will _FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE!_ and shatter while you're STILL ALIVE!" He fired two blasts at her, forcing her to dive to the ground in avoidance, screaming and covering her head.

"Simon, Declan!" she yelled. "You need to distract him while I reboot the guards, hurry!"

"We'll try!" said Simon, grabbing a vase off a nearby plinth and chucking it at the Ice Prince. As the Prince redirected his attention to the two and summoned an ice shield for the vase to hit, Bubblegum bolted for the stairs. Declan, meanwhile, took advantage of his momentary distraction, running around behind to try and grab the Ice Prince's cape again. At the last moment before he took hold, the young wizard smiled and undid the cape, causing Declan to grab it, overbalance, and fall to the ground. "NICE TRY! I've learned since last time!"

Before Declan could move, the Ice Prince whirled around to face him, summoned his ice sword again, and raised it high to strike... only for Simon to leap into his path, raising the blade he had taken from the rattler to block the strike. Metal and ice clashed.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

The sun was beginning to set over the Candy Castle, the citizens of the kingdom unaware of the life-and-death struggle for their future happening within.

One of the uppermost windows was open, a bird sitting on the sill. The bird raised one wing to begin grooming itself, but then took off as a noise unexpectedly sounded behind it. It flew off into the dusk sky, not looking back. If it had, it would have seen that, in the room that the window opened to, some misshapen thing was crawling along the floor. It was like a great heap of water, ice, and what was once syrup in all the colors of the rainbow, but had now mixed together to create a uniform brown. The slurry beast slithered over to the window, groaning in misery, and tried to surge up to the windowsill.

It overbalanced, falling straight out the window and sailing down many stories before splattering wide in the grassy courtyard. It sat still for a moment, some of it's water staining into the dirt, before it began to pull together again, shaping back into the amorphous creature it had been a moment ago. It screamed again, a twisted, distorted sound.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Simon backed away down a corridor, breathing quickly and sweating as he barely kept up with the Ice Prince's attacks. The Prince advanced, floating off the floor to maintain the high ground while slashing viciously at Simon. Simon was blocking them, but not very well; the strikes kept partially getting through, giving him small cuts around the arms and shoulders. Declan was trying his best to help; he kept attempting to leap into the fray to attack the Ice Prince, but the Prince would always respond by repositioning himself to put Simon in between them.

"This is how it was supposed to happen!" leered the Prince as he swung his blade over and over again. "There's a reason why I chose YOU for this! I understand it all; the PATH OF FATE AS IT FLOWS LIKE A RIVER! You and I are the only remaining humans outside that wicked place, the one they call the Crimson Farm! After you defied me in the Ice Kingdom, it was clear... IT IS OUR _DESTINY_ TO BATTLE, SIMON THE HUMAN! TO SHARE _**GLORIOOOOOUUUUSSSSSS**_ BLOODSHED ON THE EVE OF MY FINAL VICTORY!"

Exhausted, Simon was slowing down, and his sword arm felt like it was on fire. "You seem..." he had to huff for breath and wipe his forehead. "You seem pretty sure that this is a victory. But it's not over yet!"

Focused on the fight, Simon didn't see where he was going, and promptly tripped over a fallen rattleball. He slammed into the ground hard, his sword flying from his hand. He looked up to see the Ice Prince looming large, ice sword clutched tightly and sharp teeth bared. "Heehehehahaha... it is now!" taunted the Prince as he brought the sword up to attack... but Declan's path was now clear, and he took his shot, jumping straight in and tackling the psychotic preteen into the wall, growling angrily. Simon used what strength he had left to scramble to his feet, a rather difficult task at this point considering the strain his body had taken over the course of the day.

The Ice Prince forced Declan off by hand, tossing the dog roughly away while screaming, before firing a blast and trapping him in a block of ice. His eyes met Simon's, who watched him apprehensively while he leered. Simon wasted no time in bolting through a nearby door. It led him to a darkened, gloomy laboratory, full of desks and boxes. Slamming the door behind him, he ran deeper into the room and dove under a table, hiding while putting a hand over his mouth to quiet his breathing.

The Ice Prince burst through the door, and looked around, seeing what appeared to be an empty room. But even in his unhinged mental state, he knew better. Grinning, he turned around and shut the door, before freezing it in place. " _No way out nooooowwww_..." He drifted into the room and began searching, checking behind boxes and under tables, opening up cabinets and looking inside. Sweating profusely, Simon risked poking his head up while the kid was looking the other way and gazed to the opposite end of the room, where there was another door. Without any better options, he decided to risk it. He crawled out from his hiding place and began slinking towards the door, keeping his head low and sticking to the shadows.

Simon worked very hard to control his movement and breathing, forcing himself to take shallow breaths despite the protests of his lungs. He had become rather painfully aware of how quiet this dark room was, with even the Ice Prince going deathly silent as he focused on his search. Simon tried to moderate anything that could give him away: bumping a desk, the sound of his knees scraping the floor, standing up too high. He remained low, quiet and slow, gradually coming closer and closer to the door.

He was amazed when he reached it unnoticed. He had assumed that the Prince would try very hard to keep an eye on this door, but it seemed that it hadn't crossed the unstable young man's mind. Simon reached up to grab the doorknob, twisting it slightly to see if it would make a noise. There was the tiniest click - now Simon knew that he wouldn't be able to open the door silently, which left him with but one option. Closing his eyes, the scientist took a breath, braced himself, and went for it, grabbing and twisting the knob quickly while throwing his weight against the door, practically throwing himself through.

Unfortunately, his adversary was quick, and whipped around to face him the second he heard the sound. "YOU!" the Ice Prince shrieked as he fired a blast at Simon's head. The antiquarian ducked through the doorway and into another corridor quickly, but before he could shut the door, he tripped over a fallen rattler and stumbled to the brick floor, his glasses falling off in the process. By the time he had scrambled to reclaim them, stood up, and turned around, he was too late, and the Ice Prince had already followed him through the door. Simon backed away as the young wizard approached him with a jagged grin; he was genuinely out of ideas. It seemed like this could well be the end.

"What did I tell you?" asked the Prince in an uncharacteristically calm tone. He held up one hand, palm up, and a spiky ball of ice materialized there, floating and rotating in place. " _Destiny_. You can't hide from it, no matter how hard you try." He brought his arm back, winding up as though preparing to throw the ice. His voice dropped to a harsh whisper as the moonlight from outside fell on his gaunt, pallid blue face. " _Take it from somebody who knows_."

Simon briefly looked over the Ice Prince's shoulder, and then met his eyes. He stopped backing away. "Do you want to know your destiny? To get skewered."

"What? What do-" The Prince's eyes widened in sudden comprehension, and he turned to look.

The rattleball that Simon had tripped over was climbing to it's feet. Way at the end of the passage, another one was sitting up and looking around, confused. "Reboot complete." droned one of them, the one by the door. It looked over at the Ice Prince, and didn't waste another second; drawing its sword, it lunged at the boy with astonishing speed, weapon raised to kill. Simon had to admire the Ice Prince's reflexes; the velocity with which he brought up his own ice sword to block the strike was nearly blinding. But the young wizard couldn't hold his own against the Rattleballs and he knew it, so he promptly raised his hand towards the window, the spiky ball of ice launching towards the glass and shattering it. The Ice Prince took off at high speed and flew out into the night sky, the breeze from his power nearly knocking Simon off his feet.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

A couple hours later, Simon sat on the roof of the Candy Castle, looking over the skyline as he had done two night earlier. He felt as though that he been weeks ago... Rolling up his sleeve, he slowly pressed a bag of ice against his bruised arm, hissing a little as it came in contact. After his bruises stopped smarting, he fully intended to toss the bag off the highest tower in the Kingdom; he had seen more than enough ice in the last week. He was really beginning to have a strong dislike for ice.

"Hey." said a voice from behind him. Recognizing it as Declan's, he didn't bother to turn and look. He simply replied.

"Hey. Feeling better?"

"Am I feeling better?" said the dog as he came up alongside Simon and sat down. "Yeah, fine, I was only trapped in a block of ice. Completely. Again."

"Oh, you're f-"

"Third time this week is all I'm saying."

"You're _fine_ , quit whining. With the rattleballs helping, it only took us about a minute to chip you out."

Declan didn't answer immediately, just watching the horizon thoughtfully.

"Look..." said the Siberian after a while. "I... _guess_... ugh... I _guess_ I owe you..." he sighed heavily. "Kind of an apology."

Simon looked at him in very genuine surprise. "Wait, what? _You_ owe _me_ an apology? I'm the one who snapped at you on Mount Cragdor!"

"Yeah, but... well, I was kind of asking for it. I mean... I guess I've been a little..."

"Nasty?"

"I was going to say confrontational, since we got out of the ice. And... maybe what's needed isn't just an apology, but an explanation."

He took a deep breath. "Look... a week ago, I had like, nothing going on in my head. I was a _dog_ , skinny! A freaking DOG! And... everything was so simple, and easy, and all I had to know was... well, nothing that wasn't just in my head already, like a hard drive full of stuff I was born with-"

"Evolutionary instinct." clarified Simon.

"Whatever. And my point is, I didn't need to be, like, a person. I didn't need to know who I was, I was just dog. And that was fine."

"But now I wake up, and suddenly there's all this extra stuff in there, and I feel like... I have to _be_ someone now, like I keep having to worry about what kind of person I am, and what I'm going to do with my life, and all this crazy human stuff I never had to worry about before... and I'm figuring it out, really, I am, I'm getting there, but it's... I mean, it's really stressful, and scary, and I guess I sort of... deal with it by being sort of a jerk. I was taking out my junk on you, and that's not... I mean, I didn't mean to."

"I understand."

Declan shot him a condescending look. "Um, do you though?"

"Oh, no no, I mean... I don't get all the existential stuff, I have no experience there. But you're not the only one who's stressed and scared, Declan." He pulled out his phone, showing the photo of himself and Betty.

"And it wasn't all you." Simon continued. "I was less patient then I should have been, and less attentive to what you're going through. So... I guess we're both at fault. And we'll both need to work on this."

"Okay, Dr. Phil, take it down a notch."

Simon smiled at Declan's quip, putting the phone back away. "We could still benefit from watching each other's backs. Partners?"

"I could use a sidekick. Why not?"

Simon rolled his eyes. "Well, good, because first thing tomorrow we're heading out. As thanks for saving her kingdom, Princess Bubblegum's refilling my supplies, and putting us up for the night again. Tomorrow, we get back to exploring Ooo."

"Is it going to be as fun as today was?"

"No... no, I doubt we're going to face as much trouble now that we know what we're dealing with."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

A sopping, icy mass dropped through a grate into the Candy Kingdom sewers. Reinvigorated by the sugary water, it stood up on four shapeless limbs, all supporting a lumpy, formless body. A twisted, distorted face appeared in the cold mass.

Barely alive, Rolly crawled away down the tunnel.


	5. Ch5 - Memories of Black Sow Mountain

As sunset fell over Ooo, Simon Petrikov looked up at the building before him, the last remnants of faint sunlight illuminating it. Once, it had probably been impressively tall, but now the structure was half-buried in the earth, only a few sections of roof and the central tower, with its domed turret, jutting out.

Simon was well-equipped for the journey: his face was currently mostly covered in a scarf to protect from dust, and he had a larger-than-average backpack filled with all of the equipment he could need. He had acquired a dark hooded sweatshirt to protect him from the cold whenever he had to wander the grasslands at night, the hood currently up and the flamethrower still resting against his chest.

As Simon checked his compass, Declan came running around from the other side of the building. "Hey! Front door, over here!"

Simon quickly put the compass away and followed the dog at a run as he was led around to the structure's front, where there was indeed a broken, partly-overgrown cobblestone path leading to an oak front door built into the central tower. Simon spared a moment to examine the door from afar, and then began to approach at a fast walk, Declan following close behind. In the month that they had been in Ooo, the two had learned to approach abandoned buildings with extreme caution. Sure enough, Simon slowed drastically as he reached the door, keeping one hand on his trusty flamethrower as he reached for the brass knob.

The knob turned easily enough, but the door refused to budge, even when Simon and Declan threw their weight against it. "Feels like something big's blocking it from the other side." said Simon, stepping back.

"Now what? Burn the door down?"

"This is the last place we want to start a fire." Simon looked around, and observed that one of the wings of the building had a window low to the ground. Once upon a time, when this area _wasn't_ submerged, the circular, ten-foot-tall window was probably high off the ground, well above a door. But now it was barely a foot off the earth, and easy enough to step into. Simon walked over and gazed through the dark, dusty window.

"Yes, it looks like I can rappel down. You'll have to stay out here, sorry."

"I like how you're acting like I want to go down into the creepy abandoned library with you."

"Well, we need information. And without a proper lab for me to study it, the Enchiridion's been less then forthcoming."

Grabbing his weapon, Simon smashed the glass, and began setting up his piton and rope.

A few minutes later, Simon was sliding gently down the black rope into the library. Looking around, he could see that the building was vast; many floors, all packed with bookshelves, and scattered windows letting in limited light. It was about forty feet to the gray cobblestone floor. Once Simon reached it, his feet kicked up noticeable plumes of dust; he was glad he had thought to cover his face. Leaving the rope to hang, Simon drew forth his flashlight and panned it around, examining the filthy shelves. Princess Bubblegum had said that this place was overrun about a year earlier, and it looked like it. Simon suddenly wished that he had thought to ask _what_ exactly had overrun it.

The human began to walk among the shelves, doing broad sweeps with the beam of his light. He paid close attention to the signs, trying to discern the system by which he would find what he was looking for. This was not, however, any categorical system he was familiar with; in fact, it was alien, bizarre, and confusing. And worse, it was only a couple minutes before Simon rounded a corner to find something rather disturbing: what appeared to be the dust-coated skeleton of a turtle-like humanoid, lying in the middle of the aisle. White bones and a grey shell, sitting as a monument to whatever massacre had happened here a year ago.

Eyeing the skeleton nervously, Simon carefully stepped around it. In the last month, he had seen stranger things then the dead coming to life. It took some effort to return his attention to the shelves, but he was able to stay focused and continue his search, scanning with the light in an attempt to try and make sense of the inane sorting of the books.

Half an hour of exploration passed, with Simon passing several more skeletons, most of them belonging to more turtle people, one of whom seemed to be wearing a crown not dissimilar to Bubblegum's, though missing the jewel. He had also managed to make a limited amount of sense out of the categorization, and had collected a small armful of what looked like useful books. He made his way to a large table in an open area of the library, setting down three of the volumes he had retrieved and examining their titles:

 _A History of Warfare in Ooo_

 _The Great Mushroom War_

 _Major Events of the Last Five Hundred Years_

Ready for a lengthy session of pouring through, Simon took a deep breath and cracked open the third one, prepared to spend a considerable amount of time sifting through Ooo's somewhat confusing history to try and find some semblance of familiarity. Holding the book with one hand, he held up the flashlight to read, but was distracted by a sudden noise: a loud crash from across the library.

Startled by the sudden cacophony breaking the silence, Simon dropped the book and leapt to his feet, grabbing his weapon and looking around. For several moments, he kept his head on a swivel, looking for any sign of movement, before he quickly set the weapon down, took off his pack and opened it, quickly scooping the books in. Closing and replacing the pack, he once again reclaimed the flamethrower and returned to his vigil, now ready to leave with what he came here for if it proved necessary. This time, however, there was movement.

Down one of the aisles, Simon could see someone moving in the shadows. Though hunched, they were of a clearly humanoid shape. Barely discernable in the darkness, the only aspect of them that wasn't a silhouette was the glowing red eyes. The figure was quite a way down the aisle, a good one hundred feet or so from Simon's table. And they were looking right at him, those bright crimson eyes. The figure was saying something, but it was too far away for Simon to hear. Deciding it would be unwise to get closer, the antiquarian simply stood where he was, keeping a firm grip on the flamethrower that had been his lifeline time and again. The figure walked a bit closer, and now his voice was audible. "Who do we see... who do we have... not a human, surely... and so far from the Farm, what are you doing here?"

"Reading." Simon responded dryly. "I warn you, I'm armed." he gave the gun a little shake.

The silhouette merely chuckled. "That won't hurt me, little fleshbag... no, it won't. You can't hurt me. But I can hurt you." As the hunched creature in the shadows lunged, Simon blasted with the weapon. He wasn't sure if his opponent was telling the truth about being fireproof or not, but he was willing to experiment, waving the 'thrower to send out a wave of fire that sent up an inferno. Not waiting to see the results of his work, Simon turned around and ran, sprinting back up the aisle, while his pursuer leapt through the flames behind him, completely engulfed in fire but not slowed. Hissing, he lunged after the human, leaving a streak of orange fire along the ground in his wake.

Simon ran as fast as he could; he had become a considerably better runner in his time in Ooo, but his gear was weighing him down. To help even the odds, Simon swatted books off the shelves left and right as he ran, hoping to trip up or otherwise slow down his pursuer. Looking over his shoulder, he got a glimpse of what was chasing him: the flames were dying down now, revealed charred, black clothing clinging to an otherwise unharmed humanoid with grey skin, pointed ears and sharp-looking fangs, who hissed again as he bared his teeth at Simon. The human turned his head back to where he was going just in time to leap over a skeleton in his path; the monster chasing him hopped over as well, snarling.

Simon could tell that he wasn't going to make it to the rope before this thing caught up with him, and even if he did, he'd never be allowed to climb back up safely. He would have to fight. Running out into another open area, the scientist quickly seized a wooden chair and held it up to defend himself from the undead attacker. The monster smiled and hissed, lunging forward and swiping at the chair, striking it with inhuman strength that caused it to break apart into several pieces that scattered around. Instinctually, Simon's hands went to the flamethrower again, levelling it towards the creature, who simply grabbed it and yanked it away, hurling the implement aside.

Simon tried to back away, but was grabbed by the enemy, who snarled at him. "I'll tell you again, fleshling, you can't kill a vampire with fire! Now stop moving... it's been an age since I've tasted real blood..." he threw Simon to the ground, and the antiquarian thought quickly _. Vampire... he said vampire... assuming he's not lying, and assuming traditional western views on vampires hold more true than old myths and legends... this might work..._ As the vampire lunged, jaws wide and fangs bared, Simon grabbed a broken-off leg from the chair that had been smashed, and held it up, pointing the broken part right at the monster's sternum.

Unfortunately for the vampire, he seemed to understand his mistake only _after_ the wooden point penetrated his chest with a rather sickening CRUNCH. His eyes widened in almost comical shock, and he made a gagging sound for a split second before exploding into a massive shower of dust. As Simon shut his eyes hard, he became even more thankful that he had thought to cover his mouth.

Getting to his feet, the man brushed himself off, while taking a breath to calm himself. Not wanting to take the chance that there were more around, he then straightened his pack and set off, searching for the rope out of the library.

FOUR DAYS LATER

In the mountains west of the Candy Kingdom, Simon had found a place to rest after a day of travel. On a Cliffside overlooking a sparkling river that cut between the mountain peaks, was a large, walled-off village that seemed to be inhabited by a group of people ostensibly known as the Marauders. While the name had made Simon initially reticent to come here, Declan had insisted that they check it out, and ultimately, they were not disappointed: the so-called "Marauders" had turned out to be the most friendly, if boisterous, people that the duo had met since arriving in Ooo.

Under a bright midday sun, Simon watched bemusedly as most of the Marauders engaged in what seemed to be daily, ritualistic roughhousing, breaking off into pairs to grapple, box and wrestle with seemingly no rules or stated goal. They appeared to simply be doing it for fun. Simon was also quick to note that none of them appeared to be human: physically larger and bulkier then would be allowable for a human frame, they all had bluish skin and strange, multicolored beards. The dress and culture of these beings reminded Simon easily of Vikings, if stereotypical ones.

As two of the Marauders locked winged helmets, Simon looked over to see Declan napping in the shade of a building. He greatly envied the dog's ability to sleep no matter what was going on.

The table Simon was sitting at rocked suddenly as the leader of the Marauders set down. A great, burly man in yellow pelt clothing, with a winged helmet and great blonde beard. "Hey! Simon the Human!"

"It's Pet-"

"WHAT'RE YOU DOING just skulking over here!? Aren't you gonna join in on the fun!?" he gestured to the fight, where one Marauder now seemed to be repeatedly striking another with a live shark.

"Not really my kind of activity, thank you. And thank you again for being such gracious hosts."

"Hey-ey! Think nothing of it! You're a traveler, an adventurer! The kind of person who takes on the big, wide world with no fear! OUR KIND OF GUY! Such a person is always welcome in the Mountain Kingdom!"

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Not a lot of places to take shelter here in the Land of Ooo; Declan and I haven't even found ourselves a real place to sleep permanently yet."

"So what's your story, exactly?" the leader said, leaning in with interest. "You say you're not from Ooo, so where are you from?"

"A whole different world. I don't know how to explain it; I haven't a clue how Declan and I got here. I've been trying to do the research..." he reached into his backpack, pulling out the Enchiridion and one of the books he had taken from the library. "But every thing I learn just raises more questions. I looked through the Land of Ooo's history: you call your planet Earth, like mine, but all of your history is different. There are events and places I've never heard of, and no one here has heard of the ones I'm familiar with. It's very strange."

"Alternate universe." said the chief, nodding sagely.

"Huh?"

"Could be you're from an alternate universe. A side reality with another Earth. This is the same planet, just a different version of it from a divergent timeline brought on by subtle changes being filtered through Chaos Theory and the Butterfly Effect."

Simon gawked at the man, astonished at his knowledge.

"What?" asked the Chief. "Just because I'm a big guy who likes roughhousing, I can't have a hobby?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed... well, the alternate universe theory is a good one. One of the two I consider most likely, in fact."

"And what's the other?"

"That I'm in the future." Simon looked away, and muttered to himself, "Really, _really_ far in the future..."

"Well... what's the last thing you remember?" the Leader asked helpfully.

"When I got here, practically nothing from after I left home. But Declan and I have been travelling Ooo for about a month now, and a lot of it has come back to me."

"Well, spill bro! You might catch something you missed before!"

Simon considered the large man for a moment, and then looked down at the wood of the table, taking a breath. "Well... I guess it starts with my arrival in Copenhagen airport..."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Clutching his Norwegian Phrase Book like a lifeline, Simon Petrikov gawked at the grandeur of Copenhagen airport. Being accustomed to the spare, white appearance of American airports, he was very impressed with how the place was decorated, with nice, polished wood floors and stainless-steel furniture. The downright coziness of the place had caught him off guard, quickly helping him to shake off his jet lag, at least for the time being. Which was good, since it allowed him to regain his clarity of mind, remembering what he was supposed to do as soon as he landed.

Finding his way to a seat, Simon drew out his cell phone, taking a moment to check the time and enjoy the photo of himself and Betty before he began to dial. He held the device up to his ear, waiting for his fiancé to pick up.

"Yyyyyyyyyello?"

"Betty, it's me, I just landed."

"Oh wow, what's it like there?"

"Nice. Very nice. I'm going to take awhile to collect myself and get something to eat before I head to the rental car place."

"Don't take too long. I want to hear all about Denmark and Norway when you get back."

"It shouldn't be too hard, I already used my time on the plane to map out the route to Surtningssue. The path is actually pretty straightforward."

"Wait, the mountain? I thought you were meeting a dock worker."

"I am. There's a group of them who drudge up old stuff from the North Sea in Oslo. Apparently, they meet up in a cabin up on Surtningssue to go over what they have. Sounds like that's where they want to meet."

"Sounds axe-murder-y."

"What it sounds like is that they have something exciting this time."

"Well... just be careful. Love you."

Simon raised an eyebrow. Something in her tone was a bit odd. "Is something wrong?"

"No. No, just a weird feeling. Forget it, I'm just being a spaz. Have fun up there."

"I can hope. Love you." Hanging up, he tucked the phone away and took a moment for a deep breath, before getting up to look for a coffee shop.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Once Simon had acquired his vehicle of choice, he made sure to stock up on ample provisions; he had a ten-hour drive ahead of him. Beginning with a short southwesterly drive across the Swedish border and into the city of Malmö, before reaching what would be the lion's share of the journey: about six hours driving north along Sweden's jagged southwestern coast.

During this part of the journey, Simon was quite thankful that he had thought to catch up on sleep in Malmö, not only for safety, but also because of the beauty of the vast Scandinavian coastline. The highway took him past a number of smooth, rocky coastal vistas. He smiled inwardly at a thought that was a common source of amusement for him: that many people considered his work boring. In fairness, while Simon felt a distinct appreciation for the study of artifacts that were slices of life from civilizations long past, he could understand how that wasn't for everyone. But what the detractors didn't seem to realize was the opportunity that the position allowed: to travel the world.

Simon Petrikov had pulled ancient weapons from the sands of the Gobi Desert, had stood within overgrown temples deep within the heart of a Central American forest, and had gazed from a snowy cliff onto the vast tundras of Greenland, examining paths worn low by ancient hunters. For these experiences if nothing else, he considered himself blessed.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Severin stood on the balcony of his log cabin, overlooking the expansive and unbounded Jotunheimen mountain range, including an excellent view of part of the mammoth Russvatnet lake, currently coated in a thick sheet of ice. The broad-shouldered old man stared down at the lake, his bushy grey eyebrows furrowing disconcertedly while his beard twitched. He rolled his shoulders under his parka.

Severin and his friends had a good arrangement going. Dock workers from the surrounding villages (Severin himself was from Skjolden), they were always drudging up ancient trinkets and implements, often Viking in origin. For years, they had assembled their findings in a collective pool, the twelve of them, and sold them to local shops. But five years earlier, one of the pool, Alvis, had a revelation that they could make even more money selling to experts who could appraise the items of their true historical value. And to prevent anyone in the group from selling behind the other's backs, Severin himself had provided his family's old cabin, high in the mountains, as a meeting point where they could arrange dealings with archaeologists and antiquarians.

Once a year, they would convene here, with all of the items they had found, and call in an expert from some museum in America or England to see what they had found. And to Alvis's credit, it had proven to be a profitable venture indeed.

Severin was pulled from his introspection by something odd; down on the frozen lake, he could distinctly see a bright light flickering on and off. He squinted to try and make out if there were people on the ice, thinking that their contact might be coming at last, but all he could see was a very wide blueish glow. In fact, if he didn't know better, he would almost say it was coming from underneath the ice...

He was distracted by Alvis stepping onto the balcony behind him, removing the hood of his parka. Though slighter in build then Severin, Alvis otherwise looked very similar, with heavy features and a shaggy beard. "Any sign of the American man?" he asked.

"No. He should have arrived today, he will probably be here soon. Put your hood back up, or you will catch ill."

"It distracts me, and I'm trying to think."

"About what?"

"About our prize." both men turned around, looking through the open doors of the cabin into the living room, where their treasure sat on the oak table: a golden crown with three large rubies in it.

"Then you think too much." said Severin. "It's the best thing we've ever found, money enough for us all to retire happily. Just accept that."

"I know I should, but I can't help but be nervous. I know you've heard the old stories, just like I have."

"Old men tell stories. I tell my children giants will come for them if they don't behave, that doesn't make it true."

"I'm not superstitious. I just think that others might come looking for the crown."

Severin smiled and clapped a hand on Alvis' shoulder. "Then we should be extra glad to be selling it. Cheer up! I see calm seas ahead, for all of us!"

Alvis didn't answer, still looking at the crown thoughtfully. After a moment, he nodded, smiled back, and walked inside, though he still left his hood down. Severin turned back to the lake, trying to spot the strange light again, but there was no sign.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

The final hours of Simon's journey passed calmly and without incident, as he had stopped off only briefly in Oslo after crossing into Norway, making his way to the lake Gjende in less then four hours, putting him ahead of schedule. The place was quite a handsome locale, thickly coated with snow this time of year. Pulling up at the kiosk, Simon was sure to bundle up well before he stepped out onto the snow, his boots crunching deeply into it.

He looked around at the snowy hillsides and frozen over lake. This wasn't the one he needed to cross; he would have to hike for an hour and a half to reach the Russvatnet lake. Not wanting to lose any precious time, he set off immediately, circling around onto the hillside. He had already arranged by phone for a crossing, and wasn't worried about how he would circumvent the lake, though the treacherous mountain paths leading up to the meeting place did have him slightly concerned.

Nevertheless, as he tromped through the snow and grass, the antiquarian was glad he had come out. The sense of adventure was palpable - he really didn't know what to expect.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

"I really did not expect this." said Simon, looking at his transportation.

"Oh?" asked the well-bundled man counting his payment. "And what exactly were you expecting?"

"Well, when you said you had something to get me across the lake, I had a boat in mind."

The man looked up at him. "A boat? Look out there." He pointed at Russvatnet. "The lake is frozen, my friend. No boat will bring you across that."

"No, of course, I understand that, I've just never done... _this_ before."

He gestured to what the man had brought: a sled, hooked up to six rather noble-looking, wolfish dogs.

"It will get you across. There is a layer of fresh snow on the lake, not much, but it is enough for the huskies to get traction."

"And they'll do what I say?"

"These dogs are professionally trained. They know what to do."

Simon looked uncertainly at one of the canines, which was chewing on its own straps, and looked back at him. "Alright, I trust you."

"Good. Let me help you with your gear." The man helped Simon tie down some of what he had brought to the sled. The dog stopped chewing it's straps to watch them, before continuing.

Once they were finished, and Simon had boarded the sled, the man began to explain how the dogs would work. "Alright, listen up," he pointed to some of the different dogs, before beginning to talk very fast. Simon caught something about wheel dogs and something swinging, but missed most of the rapid-fire instructions as he tried, flustered, to steady himself. "Alright, you're good, get to it!" The man whistled sharply before Simon could say anything, and the dogs took off across the ice, carrying to befuddled scientist in tow.

"AH! Oh my goodness!" Simon reached up to hold his hood on as he sped across the lake.

It took Simon several minutes to acclimatize to the movement, holding on to the sled carefully as the dogs hurried on. Though disconcerting at first, he was sure that this would make another great story later, after he returned home. He took a moment to consider the people he was meeting with. Apparently, they did this sort of thing regularly, dredging up old artifacts and regrouping at this cabin to sell them. They were, apparently, especially excited about their latest acquisition, considering it their most valuable yet. Which, in turn, got Simon excited.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the sight of something odd; a bright, bluish light from under the ice, which the sled had just passed over. Simon twisted around, trying to get another look at the light, and saw it back behind them, getting brighter and more intense. His mouth hung open a bit as he considered the strange sight, trying to figure out what in the name of sanity could be causing it. It didn't look electrical in nature, but that didn't make sense. Some sort of bioluminescent jellyfish? He was considering bringing the sled to a stop and investigating, when he heard a loud SNAP.

Looking back forward, Simon saw that one of the dogs - the one that had been chewing on it's straps - had broken free of those straps, and was running off ahead of the others, doubling in speed as it was no longer held back by the weight. "No! No no no! Come back, oh crumbs, come back!" Panicking, Simon stumbled free of the sled, falling to the ice with a loud "OOF!" The noise caught the attention of all the dogs, with both the free dog and the sled turning to look. The dog that had broken out seemed confused, having not apparently noticed that it had broken away, and the sled dogs turned and sheepishly pulled the sled towards Simon as he shakily tried to rise to his feet.

Turning to look, he could see the frayed straps that had broken; it seemed that this particular dog's chewing habits had caught up with it. Simon turned to look at the canine, which was some fifty feet away, staring at him with a cocked head. The antiquarian rapidly began to shuffle towards it, foolishly failing to consider that he could simply call it over. "It's alright, boy... I'll just get you back to the s-SLE-ED!" He slipped for a moment, but regained his balance. "Sled... back to the sled... and we can just tie your straps off, it'll be fine..." The dog watched the strange man gradually stumble his way over, sitting patiently on the ice, while the sled dogs watched from the opposite direction. "Professionally trained..." Simon muttered. "Professionally trained my foot..."

After more time then should have been necessary, the man finally reached the dog, dropping to his hands and knees next to the animal to catch his breath. "Woo... alright... now we just have to get you back to the sled. Right?" The dog responded by sniffing his face. "Alright, this should work." Simon said, standing up carefully and examining the husky's harness. "Yes, I think as long as we-"

 _CRACK_.

Simon paused, his breath catching. He looked down at the ice, where a large, jagged white line had appeared, heralding the ice's instability. With another loud sound, a second crack splintered across. "Okaaaaayyyy..." Simon said softly, "okay, that's fine. That's okay. We can handle this." He moved slowly and cautiously, reaching over to the dog and slipping his fingers carefully around the animal's collar. "Alright, buddy... you're just going to come with me back to the sled... very slowly, alright?" The Siberian seemed to have caught on that something was wrong; its ears perked up, and it tensed, paying closer attention to Simon's movements.

 _CRACK_.

"It's okay... come on, this way..." Simon didn't risk lifting and lowering his legs, and simply slid his feet along the ice, trying to move away from the cracked ice. _CRACK. CRACK_. The new cracks were now appearing where Simon was going, causing him to cringe with worry. Swallowing with difficultly due to the dryness of his mouth, Simon kept sliding forward, picking up speed slightly and bringing the dog with him. _CRACK_. "Just keep going... just-" _CRACK. CRACK_. "-keep going... don't stop... we're fine... we are-" _CRACK_."-fine, we're absolutely fine... we have nothing to worry about, nothing at all, we are going to be f-" _CRASH!_ The two fell through the ice.

It was like falling into a completely new world. Light was overtaken by darkness, and the cold worsened infinitely in less than a second, stabbing deep into Simon's bones as he looked around in a panic, seeing a completely new environment of gloom and jagged columns of ice around him. Spinning in place, he could feel water making it's way into his throat, and could see the dog paddling wildly, panicking. It was going the wrong way; in the animal's distress, Simon could see that he was going _away_ from the gap where they fell through. Eyes widening in sudden concern, Simon swam after the husky.

He made slow progress; realizing he could never catch up to the dog swimming at this speed, he quickly pulled off his heavy parka, back down to his dark tweed suit, and began swimming faster after him. This had the side effect, however, of rendering him more vulnerable to the vicious cold of the frozen-over lake.

Simon managed to reach the dog and grab it around the middle, but by this point, his strength was rapidly leaving his body. Swirling around in the water, he groaned internally at how far away the gap in the ice was. Gritting his teeth, Simon desperately began to swim for the hole, but was unsure if he'd make it in time. With every movement his body hurt more and more, demanding that he stop. Still, he forced himself on, pushing towards the fissure with everything he had. _Betty,_ he thought to himself. _I need to see Betty again, at least one more time, and that means I need survive. Come on..._

Less than ten feet from the hole, Simon was suddenly distracted again, as a massive, glaring blue light illuminated the lake. His focus broken, Simon turned to look at the glow, which was grand in it's intensity. He held up a hand to block shadow his eyes from the violent glare, but before he could do anything else, the water around him and Declan rapidly became colder, until...

The Marauders all sat at the table under the evening stars, chins in their hands, watching Simon with rapt attention. Declan was staring from the patch of grass he was laying on nearby. "...And!?" asked the Chief. "What happened next?"

"That's it." Said Simon. "The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a chunk of ice on the beach. I broke free, Declan got out later - he could talk now for some reason, neither of us have figured that out yet - and we started looking around Ooo."

"I remember all that..." said Declan. "Yeah... it's all really... weird, I guess fuzzy, but I remember. I _did_ used to chew those straps..."

"Whoah, whoah, back up..." said the Chief, "I'm confused - what was making that blue light?"

Simon shrugged. "No idea. Whatever it was, I'm pretty sure it's what froze Declan and I." He pulled off his glasses, cleaning them on his shirt. "The most obvious answer, I suppose, is that we simply hibernated in the ice for years, or decades. I have to hope that's not true, because if it is, I may not have a home to go back to. I don't think that's right, though... I'm not sure."

Everyone present was quiet for a few moments, before one of the marauders asked, "So what are you gonna do now?"

Simon put his glasses back on. "Keep travelling. Find out more about this world, and try to find a way back home. There has to be a way... and if anyone can figure it out, I can. I will."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

That night, as Simon slept, he had a strange dream. He and Declan were still frozen in the iceberg, floating in the Norwegian sea, when a green mushroom cloud lit up the horizon.

Strange dream.


	6. Chapter 6 - Invited!

_"She's just a Devil Woman,_

 _With evil on her mind._

 _Beware the Devil Woman..._

 _She's gonna get you!"_

-Cliff Richards, _Devil Woman_.

A soft, cool breeze rustled the shimmering grasslands as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting amorphous shadows from the rolling hills all around. Simon walked, still carrying his hefty backpack and flamethrower, while Declan trotted along behind him. Every five minutes or so, Simon would pull out his map to scan it briefly, trying to be sure that they were going the right way. In the almost-two months they had spent wandering this strange new land, the map had become something of a labor of love for Simon; he had started drawing it shortly after parting with the Marauders, basing the rough outline on the map that Princess Bubblegum had shown him, and had been filling it in ever since, based not only on his own travels, but information from people he met along the way.

It was fairly complete now, even covering most of the especially dangerous areas that Simon and Declan had avoided, such as the Shadow Kingdom, the Badlands, and the Crimson Farm. Simon tucked the map away in his sweatshirt again. "Looks like it's not far ahead, just another few minutes."

"Good." said Declan. "I smell rain coming."

The human turned to give him a quizzical look. "You can't smell the weather."

"Oh? Since when exactly did you become an expert on what I can do? Just read the map, Poindexter."

Still unconvinced, Simon decided to drop the subject and keep walking, and before long, as the last bits of sunlight were glimmering over the horizon, they could see their goal: dead in the center of the grasslands was a large, thriving, willow-like tree, well over sixty feet tall and with what looked like an elaborate wooden fort built into it. When Simon had been told that this was a major landmark, he was initially skeptical; the phrase "tree fort" had made him imagine something considerably smaller and less impressive. Actually seeing the thing, he was surprised at how large and extensive it looked. There even looked to be a watchtower of some kind on top, seemingly made from a boat and large parasol, as well as a rope bride connecting two sections of the tree, and a _metal chimney_ of all things.

Simon drew forth the map and was about to add the fort, when thunder rumbled, not too far away. He looked up in surprise, and then at Declan, who gave him a smug look. "Lucky guess." said the human. "Come on, let's go find shelter."

"Why not in here?" Declan asked, pointing his snout at the tree fort and Simon folded the map and put it away. Simon looked up at the structure critically.

"I don't know, there could be something dangerous inside."

"Right, because that's not true everywhere here."

"It's a wooden structure. I won't be able to safely use this." he patted his flamethrower. The first few drops began to fall, along with the darkness of night.

"Forget this, I don't want to get my fur wet. Move it or lose it." the dog sprinted over to the cover of the tree, and Simon, after sighing in irritation, followed.

By the time Simon reached the dry grass, Declan was staring up at the wooden door, brown with a small window in it. Simon turned and looked around, taking in his surroundings. A ways to the right of the fort was a small pond, where a two-head duck sat, staring at the adventurers. Off to the left was a well.

"Hey, you need to knock." said Declan.

"What?"

"Knock! See if someone's home. I can't, I don't have fists."

Simon looked up at the tree, seeing that there didn't appear to be any lights in the windows. He sighed, took a step up to the door, and knocked on it.

Nothing happened immediately. Simon waited a few moments, and looked up at the windows, where a dim light had come on in one. Furrowing his brow, he knocked again, only for the door to slowly creak open on its own. The human and the dog looked at each other.

"Declan. Come on."

"What?"

"Seriously, it's haunted or cursed or full of dark wizards or something. Let's go somewhere else."

Declan turned around to look at the dark, rainy grasslands. "No, man, this is fine! Whatever it is, we can handle it." And before Simon could say anything else, Declan trotted in through the open door.

As Simon followed his canine companion through, he was struck by how startlingly cold it was inside; amazingly, it was even colder than the rain-soaked plains they had just left. The entry chamber was dark; only the faint moonlight coming through the windows and doors gave any semblance of illumination, enough for Simon to make out the walls, and what looked in the darkness like a spiral staircase up ahead. Declan shook himself off, as Simon walked up next to him and looked pointedly down at the dog. "As homey as you were expecting?"

"So it's cold, big whoop. We can warm it up. And look, stairs! That means I can get around. I was afraid it would just be ladders or something."

Simon flicked on the flamethrower as they walked forward through the foyer, Declan much less hesitantly then his human companion. As they reached the base of the stairs, Simon looked up through the hole, only seeing a wooden ceiling above. "I don't suppose that magic nose of yours can smell anything dangerous?" he asked.

Declan sniffed a few times, before suddenly looking a bit sheepish. "Well..."

"Well what?"

"It's nothing..."

"Declan!"

"Alright! I mean... it sort of smells like something died in here."

Simon blinked at him in the dark. " _Declan,"_ he said in an exasperated tone. "Let's just _leave."_

"Hey, it might be nothing! Stuff dies in houses all the time, you'd be amazed! My old owner, back in Scandinavia, he had, like, fifty dead bats in his attic, and he had no idea. I could smell them all the time, it was gross. Look, it's probably just a badger or cat or... I dunno, elf or something that just crawled into the flooring. Let's at least check the place out, okay? I can promise you there's nothing living in here besides us, I'd smell it."

Simon sighed. He could hear the rain, now coming down fast and heavy, beating on the roof. "It does sound pretty bad out there. And I guess we've come this far. Alright, lead the way, O Great Siberian One."

And up the stairs they went.

The living room was an errant mess. It was hard to see everything from the limited light of the windows, but the place was certainly in chaos. It wasn't really possible to tell the room was in a tree, as wood planks made up an extensive floor, walls and ceiling. There wasn't much furniture (only two old chairs), but there was detritus everywhere, including torn papers, scraps of leather and cloth, some broken glass piled in one corner, a few bottles, some rotten fruit, and a couple of what Simon was pretty sure were bones scattered about. A half-destroyed chandelier hung from the ceiling, and there was a painting on the wall that looked like it was supposed to be depicting a naked woman, though it was torn in such a way that nothing truly inappropriate was visible.

A single table sat in the center of the room. There was nothing on it, but it was badly scratched, as though some animal routinely clawed up the top. There were a couple doors leading into other areas, and an opening at the back which seemed to be open to the elements, with rain pouring down into that corner of the room. Most unsettlingly of all, however, many of the walls were covered in stains of some old liquid that had been splattered on them. With it's brownish color, it looked a lot like old blood.

Simon glared down at Declan again, who looked back and him. "Well..." the dog said weakly. "This is... cozy. Isn't this cozy? I think it's-"

"Shut up. Go look for food. I'll set up a fire."

"...Okay."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

It took Simon a few minutes to clear out the fireplace (which was, for some reason, full of dirty laundry), break one of the chairs for wood, and set a fire with a quick burst from the 'thrower. Annoyingly, it was basically impossible to walk anywhere in the room without stepping on the omnipresent mess of bizarre, random junk. What had at first just appeared to be an expanse of rotten fruit and scraps of paper and clothing had begun to yield some much stranger items, like an empty ant farm and a German book of knock-knock jokes.

Simon cleared out a significant space around the fireplace, enough for him and Declan to camp, when the dog returned.

"Did you find anything to eat?" the human asked, sitting down and holding out his hands to warm.

"Nope. Diddly. Some old strawberry boxes, but they're empty."

"Tsk. Not even a fridge or anything?"

"Err... well, I found a big cooler."

"...And? Anything edible inside?"

"That... depends..." Declan shifted uncomfortably, and Simon narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean? What was inside?"

"A... bunch of dead rats."

Simon dropped his arms and glared at his travelling companion. "Say it."

Declan sighed. "You were right, and we probably shouldn't have come in here."

Thunder rumbled outside, and Simon pinched his brow. "Well, it's definitely too late now. We're not going to sleep until we've searched every inch of this house _, thoroughly,_ and made sure that nothing else is in here with us. _And_ we'll keep an eye out for any evidence that someone might be coming back here tonight. I think that's certainly the best course of action."

"Me too."

"Me three!"

"Alright, then it's settled. We-" Simon stopped mid-sentence. "Wait..."

Both Simon and Declan slowly looked over towards the center of the room. A small, humanoid figure was floating five feet off the ground, hidden in the shadows just outside the light from the fire. Lightning flashed, making the flying person visible: he had dark grey clothes, big feet, and a big, conical hat, like a garden gnome. But most visibly, he had the grey skin and pointed fangs that denoted him as a Vampire.

The undead grinned at them. "What's up, guys?" he asked merrily.

Screaming in terror, Simon and Declan both ran from the room, throwing open the door to the kitchen in their retreat. The vampire watched them leave, giggled, and then followed, floating placidly towards the kitchen.

Simon and Declan hurriedly looked around for a place to hide; the kitchen was just as messy as the living room, but there were at least cupboards. The duo wasted no time opening one and scrambling inside. Simon closed the cupboard door, plunging them into darkness. " _What was that!?"_ whispered Declan.

"Vampire. I ran into one in the library."

"Vampires? Oh, you're kidding me. I mean, of course there's vampires. Zombies, crazy ice warlocks, so obviously, vampires."

"This is bad... he must have been here the whole time, watching us."

"Why's he so... small?"

"Looks like he was a gnome in life. I ran into some of them on Cragdor, after you left."

The two waited in silence for a moment, listening to their own breath as they waited for some sign of the vampire's presence. "So..." Declan asked finally, "what should we do?"

"Vampires in Ooo seem to have more or less the same weaknesses as they do in western fiction. I know from experience that a wooden stake does the trick, and sunlight seems like a good bet."

"Well... sunlight's not going to help us, it's like eleven 'o clock. But there was a lot of crap lying around in the living room, maybe something we can stab him with?"

"HEY GUYS!" Said the vampire from the gloom behind them. "What are we talkin' about!?"

Yelling in surprise, both human and dog tumbled out of the cupboard and onto the kitchen floor. They scrambled to their feet and turned to face the undead as he lazily floated out of the cupboard after them, his serene smile contrasting their horrified faces. "How did you get in behind us!?" demanded Simon, aiming the flamethrower, even though he knew it would do nothing. The vampire didn't say anything, but simply pointed at a nearby section of the wall that looked torn open, a gate of wooden splinters allowing access into a sort of hollow space within the infrastructure. It clearly led behind the shelves, all the way down to an opening within the cupboard.

"How... did we miss that?" asked Declan. The vampire giggled and wheeled in the air above them, causing Simon to yell and dive to the floor in a panic. He crouched, ready for anything, for several seconds, but the vampire simply kept flying around idly. Something fell from the undead gnome's pocket, drifting down and landing in front of Simon's face. The antiquarian looked up at the piece of paper and picked it up to examine, identifying it as a tarot card. "The Fool?" he read outloud. Above him, the vampire came to a stop and looked down at him.

"Yeah, what?"

Simon looked back up and met the undead's turquoise eyes. "Uh... what?"

"You say my name, bro?"

Simon and Declan exchanged a confused look before the genius answered the Fool. "...No?"

"WHATEVS." The Fool proclaimed loudly, before zipping out of the room.

Declan stared after him, confused. "...Is he, uh... not gonna attack us?"

"Strange..." said Simon. "He was right there, he must have heard us say we were going to kill him."

"So what's his game? Does he even have one? He seems a little... off."

"It's a trick. It has to be. He plans to kill us, but he's going to screw with us first. It's all a mind game. The question is: what should our next move be?"

"Play along." said Declan seriously. "He's overconfident if he thinks he can mess with us. We play his game until he lets his guard down, and then we put a stake in it."

"Declan... you read my mind. Let's go find him, but stay sharp. We don't know what kind of trap he has planned."

Declan nodded, and went off to search for the Fool. Simon decided to be cautious, and went over to the window to look outside. The nighttime thunderstorm was still raging, with rain pouring in sheets. Outside, the two-headed duck was sitting comfortably next to a squirrel with galoshes, but there was no other movement. Simon took an uneasy breath, unable to shake the feeling that something more sinister could be lurking out there, just waiting for the Fool's signal.

He left to find Declan, and their new undead host.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Both, as it turned out, were in the living room.

The fire was still crackling, and Declan was sitting in front of it, looking up at the Fool as he drifted in lazy circles around the chandelier. Simon and his travelling companion met eyes briefly, and exchanged a nod. Simon gazed around the room, and spotted several shards of wood left over from his destruction of the chairs that could act as serviceable stakes. He pointed to them subtly, hoping for the gesture to go unnoticed by the vampire. Declan got the idea, nodding again before he walked over to the stakes and sat over them, hiding them from view.

"So," Simon started, trying to sound casual. "Mr... um... Fool. How long have you lived out here?"

The Fool zipped down to float in front of Simon, still wearing a goofy grin, and pointed at him. "Pull my finger, dude!"

"Erm... no thanks." He noted that the vampire's "idiot routine" was very well-acted.

"Your loss." The Fool chuckled and went back to levitating around. Simon decided to refocus the conversation.

"I just mean it's very exposed out here. Have you... ever been worried about safety?"

"Pfft, naahh! Man, you can't enter a vampire's home unless you're invited, everybody knows that!"

"Erm... actually, I think that's backw-"

"BUT THAT'S WHY I LET YOU GUYS IN!" The Fool interrupted. "You seem like cool dudes, and I want company!"

"Riiiight." Simon said skeptically, raising an eyebrow. He was slowly making his way over to where Declan was guarding the stakes.

"Besides," the Fool continued, "I'm protected and schway. The Shadow Lord's got my back." The vampire floated down to the floor and began sifting through some of the junk, turning his attention away from the duo. Taking advantage of the apparent distraction, Declan quickly moved aside as Simon grabbed a stake and hid it in his jacket, concealing the weapon. "Shadow Lord, huh?" the human asked, keeping the act going.

"Oh yeeeaaah. Nobody wanted me around back in the Kingdom, so the Shadow Lord gave me this place and... maaaaan, I thought I had a rubber chicken around here somewhere." The Fool floated back up, scratching his bearded chin thoughtfully. "Can't entertain guests without my rubber chicken..."

"Of course not." Simon agreed compliantly. "You should probably go find it immediately."

"Yeah... alright, see you in a sec!" The Fool flew out of the room and up the ladder, once again giggling mirthfully.

"Oh, his act is good." said Simon, once their vampiric host was gone.

"You... sure it's an act?" Declan asked. "He seems pretty dim to me."

"Declan, don't be absurd. You heard what he said, the Shadow Lord _himself_ assigned him out here. He's part of the vampire inner circle."

"I guess... so what now?"

"I expected him to be more aware of the stakes... that must be part of his plan. He knew we'd grab one, which means it doesn't matter to him. This is all according to his design..." Simon thought for a moment, running a hand through his hair. "Okay... he must have left to set up the next stage of his trap. He knows now that we're not buying his act, so he's probably getting bored of his game... I should head him off, catch him when he least expects it!"

Simon ran to the ladder to follow the Fool. "Declan, look for other exits! We might need to flee in a hurry."

Declan watched uncertainly as his travelling companion climbed up after the gnome, and then sighed.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Upon swiftly ascending the ladder, Simon found himself in what seemed to be a dimly-lit bedroom, albeit one just as chaotic as the downstairs. The Fool was doing low, circular sweeps over the floor, tossing rubbish aside as he searched. "Where is that stupid chicken!?" he demanded.

"Maybe it's in an egg." Simon said dryly, gazing around. He was snapped out by the sudden silence as the sound of the Fool's search ended. He looked at the vampire, who was staring back at him with a look of awed astonishment.

"...YOU JUST BLEW MY MIND." Said the Fool, before flying over to the window, pulling up the blinds, and looking out into the stormy night.

"What are you doing?" Simon asked.

"Looking at the chicken coop, man! I might see the egg you were talkin' about!" The Fool put his hands up as if to shade his eyes from the nonexistent sunlight, and squinted down at the coop with determination. Simon's attention, meanwhile, was directed to the Fool's back. His attention was away... this could be the very chance...

Simon slipped a hand into his jacket, getting a firm grip on the stake. He drew it and began to slowly creep up on the Fool, who was still staring out the window. Pulling away a splinter, Simon raised the weapon, praying that the floorboards wouldn't creak and give away his intent. Mercifully, they were quiet, and he easily closed within arm's reach of his quarry, the pointed piece of wood held high above his head. Simon bit his lip and hesitated... could he get away with it? Just kill the Fool now and win?

The little vampire didn't turn around, still staring out into the rain. Simon's hand shook. _Something's not right here_ , he thought to himself. _It's too easy... he had to have planned around this. I'm probably blundering right into a trap._ He tried to reason with his skepticism. _What trap? Look at him, there's no trap! He's RIGHT THERE, just stab him_! But the skepticism wouldn't be quiet _. The fact that I can't tell what the trap is is exactly the scary thing. This little monster is sly; he thought of everything. This whole thing is a gambit... and I must not fall into it!_ Slowly, Simon lowered the stake, electing to wait for the right chance.

The Fool finally turned around, shrugging. "I don't see any eggs big enough for my rubber chicken... guess it flew the coop!" As the undead snorted and giggled with laughter, Simon simply glared back at him. "Oh well!" the Fool continued, "I can find something else! I got a whole book of ghost stories, lemme see if I can find it! WOOHOO!" As usual, he zoomed carelessly out of the room, leaving Simon to glower, his fists tightening angrily at his predicament.

"You win this round, monster..." he hissed, before following the Fool back down the ladder.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Simon met back up with Declan in the living room. "What happened?" the dog asked. "Is he dead?"

"No." Simon responded in a frustrated tone, kicking aside a rubber duck, which squeaked irately as it bounced off the wall. "I thought I had a chance, but it was a trick. Now he's off under the pretense of finding a book of ghost stories, probably sealing us in so we can't escape. Speaking of which, exits?"

"Didn't find any aside from where we came in, but that's still unlocked. We can get out that way if we want."

"Maybe. He's probably thought of that, too. Besides, with his ability to fly, we wouldn't get far over the grasslands."

Declan thought for a moment before replying. "So... really, there's no way we're getting out of here without killing him?"

"So it would seem."

"And here I was worried I wouldn't hit my monster-fighting quota this week."

"We're going to need to wait for the perfect moment, when he really won't be expecting it... or maybe a distraction of some kind?"

"Well I guess I could go make a big noise or something while you wait near him. Once he's distracted, you could stake him?"

"That might work, but with you gone, he'll suspect something's... shh, I think he's coming!"

Human and dog both took their seats as the Fool floated into the room, carrying a book with him. "Look what I found!" he announced merrily, throwing the book down next to them and creating a plume of dust. Simon leaned over to look; the faded yellow book was simply titled "A Reliable Source." He and Declan exchanged quizzical looks, before the Fool spontaneously kicked the book, sliding it to Simon's knees.

"Er... what am I supposed to do?"

The Fool sat down criss-cross-applesauce, smiling stupidly at his guest. "I can't read! You gotta do it!" Simon's eyes narrowed as he wondered what new psychological game this was supposed to be. Hesitantly, he picked up the book and cracked it open. Declan watched nervously, as though he expected the thing to begin spewing scorpions; all that came out, however, was a bit of dust.

The Fool pointed at a bookmark in the tome. "Do that one! That's the best!" He grabbed his own knees and began to rock in excitement. Simon obediently opened the book to the indicated passage, a story titled "BLOOD MYSTE." Playing for time, Simon cleared his throat and began to read. "It was a dark and stormy night in Camp Not-Haunted..."

Simon continued through what proved to be a rather horrific story about a vampire massacring a group of unsuspecting victims. Both he and Declan were rather tense throughout the affair, not helped by the Fool's frequent laughter at disturbing or otherwise inappropriate moments. But most unsettling was the story's recurrent parallels to their current situation. The Fool making them read a tale about a vampire savaging a group of innocuous travelers didn't seem to either Simon or Declan like it could be a coincidence. In fact, Simon believed he had figured out the little vampire's game: he was detailing what he was going to do to them.

With this theory hanging over his head, reading the book became significantly more challenging, as with every passing paragraph, Simon couldn't help but imagine the Fool doing to him and Declan what the vampire in the story was doing to his prey. Each word, and each graphic description, bored into his skull, nauseating him with twisted imagery. "Slowly but surely," he read, "the beast knew it had trapped the delicious victims right where it wanted them."

"Oooh! This is my favorite part!" said the Fool excitedly, wiggling his pallid toes. Simon gritted his teeth angrily. _Listen to him taunt us..._

"And as it waded through the carnage it had wrought," he continued, "the vampire smashed their skulls just for the fun of it."

"No way!" said the Fool, grabbing at his own ears.

 _This might be perfect, though..._ Simon thought to himself as he flipped the page. _He's so wrapped up in this game of his, I might be able to take him by surprise... this could be what I've been waiting for..._

Simon leaned forward for dramatic effect; both Declan and the Fool followed suit. Declan seemed to be anticipating his next move; the Fool just appeared to be enthralled in the story. _Oh, I see right through that little display..._ The human though spitefully as he continued to read. "With that done, the vampire proceeded to hunch over its victims and breathe their vaporized blood mist!"

The Fool squealed in morbid thrill. That was the final straw for Simon; the combination of the Fool's preoccupation and the mental image of the gnome devouring his blood vapor convinced him that it was time to make his move.

With reflexes even to impress himself, Simon whipped out the makeshift stake and slashed swiftly at the Fool's chest. However, in the little vampire's excited rocking, he moved out of the way and was only nicked with the weapon. As the Fool rose off the ground in surprise, his mouth forming an astonished O, Simon and Declan leapt to their feet and sprinted from the room, scattering debris as they accelerated. Simon chanced looking back over his shoulder just long enough to notice the Fool smiling at him. "Oh, you wanna play tag?" the undead asked, floating in slow pursuit. "Alright, but I'm _reeeeeeeaaaaally_ good at it..."

"Go, go!" Simon said as both he and Declan dashed through the house, making a mad break for any hiding place they could find.

"This way!" said the dog, taking the lead. "There's a rope bridge, we'll be able to see him coming!"

Passing through an open doorway, the two burst out into the storm, sliding along a wet plank-and-rope bridge that connected two parts of the tree. Coming to a stop in the center of the bridge, Simon turned to face the doorway, clutching the stake in his hand. Declan ran a bit farther, before looking back at him. "What are you doing!?" he yelled over the furious wind and rain.

"Making a stand here! Out in the open like this, we can see him coming from any direction. Is he coming?"

Declan sniffed the air. "Hard to tell in the storm, but I think so. Ready?"

"Ready." Simon looked up, spotting the fool grinning at him from an upper window, his features briefly thrown into greater relief by a flash of lightning. The vampire dropped out of sight, before reappearing in the doorway, flying out towards the two.

"Oh man, I got yooouuuuu..." the Fool jeered as he shot towards them. Simon yelled and swung the stake wildly, trying to hit the little monster while struggling to keep his balance on the slippery wood. The Fool, for his part, seemed to be having fun, giggling incessantly as he dodged the weapon time and time again.

Frustrated, Simon tried to grab at the undead with his free hand to hold him still, but this only gave the Fool and opening, diving under Simon's arm and poking him in the sternum. "TAG! YOU'RE IT! HAHAHAHAHA!" Turning back around, the Fool retreated before Simon could retaliate, fleeing back into the shadows of the house. Yelling in frustration, Simon threw caution to the wind and sprinted after, prompting Declan to yell after him.

"Hey! HEY! COME BACK!" The dog ran after the human and vampire, quickly catching up as Simon chased the chuckling and whooping Fool through the house.

The Fool led them on quite a chase, back through the living room, through the kitchen, and into another living room. At long last, Simon caught up well enough to dive and tackled the child-sized enemy, pulling him down from the air and pinning him to the floorboards. The Fool laughed briefly, before resigning himself to capture as Simon positioned the stake over his chest.

"Got you!" Simon said anxiously as Declan slid to a stop next to him. "I _got you,_ you twisted little freak!"

The Fool laughed again. "Yeah, dude, you got me! Alright, lemme go, let's do another round!"

" _Enough!_ It's _over!_ All your sick games, and where have they gotten you now, huh!?"

Simon looked quite disheveled by this point. His eyes were wide and furious, and his wet, messy hair was plastered across his neck and face, partially obscuring his glassed. He yelled down at the Fool. "Tell me! I know you have one last trick up your sleeve! All that trickery, that whole shtick, it had to be for something, you have to have an endgame!"

"Ooh, how do you play that one?"

" _Stop it!_ Tell me!" He lowered himself down, glaring right into the Fool's face. "Be serious! What's the trick? How are you gonna stop me from killing you!?"

The smile fell from the Fool's face. For the first time, his expression seemed somber, even contemplative. He met Simon's eyes, considering him.

There was a moment of quiet. Declan watched anxiously; he had never seen Simon go over the edge like this, but at the same time, he was afraid of what the cornered vampire would do. Simon waited, his breath catching as he tried to anticipate what the undead would say next. He ignored the cold biting into his bones, and the water blurring his glasses as he stared into his foe's turquoise eyes. Slowly, the Fool began to draw breath, as if preparing to say something. Simon's heart was hammering; he felt half-insane as he waited. The Fool opened his mouth, surely about to speak...

A loud fart permeated the air, and the Fool smiled again.

"That's what woulda happened if you pulled my finger."

Simon stared down at him in stunned silence for a moment, before he simply couldn't take it anymore. Yelling in rage, the antiquarian raised the wooden stake high, and plunged it into the Fool's little, gnomish ribcage. With a final giggle, the tiny vampire exploded into dust, and man and dog were left alone in the house.

They looked at each other, surprised. "...There has to be... some trick, reinforcements coming, or something... get ready!"

The two moved to the center of the room, and turned their backs to each other. Declan bared his teeth, while Simon brandished his stake, and the two began to wait for the attack they were sure was coming, ready for anything. Unnoticed by either of them, an owl sat on the windowsill, staring it. For some reason, it wore a pair of boots. After a moment, the owl took off, flying away into the night sky. Simon and Declan continued their vigil, tensed and at the ready.

Ten minutes passed.

Thirty minutes passed.

An hour passed.

Three hours passed.

Slumped against each other tiredly, the two stared into the darkness with bored, defeated expressions. Nothing had happened. No final trick, or curse, or wicked trap. Just the pounding of the rain outside, the occasional groan of the wood of the tree, and the sound of the wind. After a while, Declan finally spoke up.

"Sooooooooo... he really was just an idiot?"

"...Yeah, looks that way."

"And none of it was a trick or a mind game."

"Nope."

"...Wanna keep the house?"

"...Yes."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Far to the south, the boot-wearing owl glided through a dark, clouded sky. The clouds weren't natural; far below the bird, cracks and vents in the ground spewed smoke and ash that drifted high above, forming a dense canopy of shadow in the sky. This didn't seem to hinder the owl, which continued to fly unharmed even as it breathed in soot, and ash coated it's feathers. The raptor didn't even need to flap it's wings as it coasted on the warm air currents from below, carrying it high over an ancient volcanic ridge.

Rising over the ridge, the owl entered a much different landscape: a darkened, stone cityscape, full of fire and magma, with buildings made of brown, volcanic stone and columns of ash billowing into the sky. The air was unbearably hot; as the bird flew, a leaf that had been caught in it's tail feather spontaneously caught fire, the ashes drifting below. The bird didn't notice; it kept flying with determination, unaffected by the extreme heat. Tilting it's head, it scanned the place that had once been known as the Fire Kingdom, now known as the Shadow Kingdom.

The creature saw citizens in the streets; beings made of fire, many in chains, all ruled over by the vampire guards that roamed the city. Before long, the owl spotted what it was looking for: the great castle that sit in the middle of the Kingdom. It descended, shapeshifting as it landed on the platform before the main gates. Two vampiric palace guards, wearing simplistic black armor, watched as the owl stood up, everything on it aside from the boots transforming. After a moment, before them stood a short vampire with pallid, milky skin, a pair of small horns, and a bushy brown mustache to match his hair. He wore a nice fur coat and pair of galoshes, and a tufted mammal's tail swished behind him.

Adjusting his coat imperiously, the Hierophant strode up to the guards and spoke in a posh accent. "I need to see the Shadow Lord. It is a matter of utmost importance."

"Not if that's the title you intend to use to Our Master's face." said one of the guards.

The Hierophant waved his hand impatiently. "I will use the proper form of address, just let me in!"

The two vampires stepped aside, and the Hierophant walked up to the large pair of double doors they were guarding. He took a moment, catching his breath, before reaching out and pushing the doors open.

As usual, there was music playing in the throne room. The Hierophant stepped into the vast chamber, noting the stereo in the corner that was playing the melodies of Cliff Richards' "Devil Woman."

" _I've had nothing but bad luck, since the day I saw the cat at my door."_ went the lyrics as he stepped up towards the throne. He observed the details of the room, including a prominent row of tarot cards lined up on one wall, including, quite visible, "The Empress", "The Hierophant," "The Moon", and "The Queen of Wands." Two other cards were burned beyond recognition.

" _So I came into you, sweet lady, answering your mystical call."_

Above the throne, he saw, as usual, the giant lantern that held the Shadow Lord's favorite prisoner, huddled in the dark so as not to be seen.

" _Crystal ball on the table, showing the future, the past."_

"Yes, Hierophant?" asked the Shadow Lord from the throne.

"Erm... I am sorry to be the bringer of bad news... I see you are aware that Fool is dead."

"What happened?"

" _Same cat with those evil eyes, and I knew it was a spell she cast!"_

"A _human_ killed him. A human _outside the Crimson Farm."_

"Hmmmm... interesting..." said the Shadow Lord, standing up from her throne. The grey-skinned young woman had shoulder-length black hair, and wore an expensive-looking white suit, red tie and boots, and a white fedora with a red hatband.

" _She's just a devil woman, with evil on her mind!_

 _Beware the devil woman, she's gonna get you!"_

The Hierophant bowed low. "What should be done about this, my Vampire Queen?"

Marceline the Vampire Queen smiled, baring all of her sharp, pointed teeth. "Well... we're gonna have to do something about this human, aren't we?"

 _"She's just a devil devil woman, with evil on her mind!_

 _Beware the devil woman, she's gonna get you from behind!"_

AN: Whoof, another done. Writing the Fool was surprisingly challenging, as he doesn't have much canon screentime. Not really sure if I'm super happy with how he turned out, but it was my best effort.

Also, Marceline.


	7. Chapter 7 - What is Death?

Taking over the Fool's Tree Fort home had proven to be a mixed blessing for Simon and Declan.

On one hand, it quickly became apparent that it would be an excellent place to live in the long run. The fort was large and spacious, with ample resources such as a chicken coop, well, and a nifty garage-like area concealed under the roots of the tree. It seemed sturdy and reasonably safe (a few simple precautions, such as locking the front door, were all Simon was convinced were needed to avoid the fate of the previous owner), and was in a very central location, meaning it wouldn't take too long to get anywhere and back. In fact, if Simon's cartography was correct, the fort appeared to be more or less in the exact center of Ooo, which could prove remarkably convenient as a base of operations for their travels. And not only did it have an excellent view of almost the entire grasslands, but the crow's nest and spyglass allowed one to see as far as the Ice and Candy Kingdoms.

However, there were downsides. For one thing, Simon and Declan discovered the next day, to their dismay, that the house was under attack by an anthropomorphic cat wearing a labcoat and throwing vials of potions about like a madman, and an equally inexplicable, bipedal sword-wielding shark. The two did not prove difficult to dispatch, as Simon merely blasted them with the flamethrower... only for the cat and shark to promptly regenerate back to life, and politely inform him that they intended to repeat the same ritual every single afternoon, before leaving. True to their word, the duo had returned every day at four P.M. sharp to harass the new homeowners, and proved impossible to kill for good.

Simon found the arrangement annoyingly unfair, as he was perfectly capable of succumbing to death by sword.

The more prominent issue, however, was the cleaning. While the fort itself was an excellent home in theory, to say that the Fool had let it go to seed was a drastic understatement. It seemed the little vampire had been occupying the fort for close to a year, and it that time he had managed to turn it into a disgusting pigsty of unparalleled horror. Simon and Declan found their exploration of Ooo temporarily halted as they were pressed to spend every day hard at work filtering out the Fool's mess, and transporting it far enough away from their new home to satisfy themselves. They wound up depositing the bulk of what they removed some eighty paces west of the tree, next to a sentient rock with a stupid look on it's face. The rock didn't seem to mind, merely "DUUUUUUUUURE"ing at them every time they returned.

One particularly warm day, the duo found themselves returning from just such a trip, carrying with them the now-empty burlap sack that they had used to haul the trash down to the dimwitted chondrite. The sack was massive enough to require them both to drag it to the dumping site, and the effort of doing so four times today had left the reedy scientist sweaty and the canine panting.

"Just a day or two more of this, Dec..." said Simon. "Just a day or two more and then the place will finally be clean..."

"Ugh... I'm not sure I can do another day or two. I don't even know if I think this treehouse is worth this anymore, can we just burn it down?"

"Look on the bright side, once the place is clean enough, I can set up a proper lab, and start trying to figure out how to get us home. With enough proper equipment, analysis of the Enchiridion should give us what we need."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Oh, you're gonna see it! You're gonna see it so much, you... it's gonna... you're gonna see it and..." Simon had to stop and think for a moment. "You're gonna say 'hey, Simon, that was crazy sick'."

"Yes." Declan droned in a deadpan. "I'm sure that is exactly what I am going to say. That sounds so much like me. It's amazing how you captured my essence there, it's like you read my-"

"Oh, shut up, it's hot out!"

The dog sighed as they reached the front door and Simon retrieved the key. "Well, you're not wrong. Don't suppose we have any ice water inside?"

"No such luck."

"Dang. I could really go for something cold right now."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

High-pitched, delirious laughter echoed around the jagged, frozen peaks of the ice kingdom, scaring distant seagulls into taking off.

Within his cold blue throne room, the Ice Prince laughed and flew about with wild abandon. Like Simon, he was hard at work, though his frigid body was unaffected by the heat. Zooming around, he picked through the heaps of scrap and junk that he had collected recently, sifting and cherry-picking to find what he could use. For while Simon had been spending the last several days getting rid of garbage, his foe had been spending the same time collecting it.

"Perfect!" the Prince spat. "Perfect! This is _exactly_ what I need, _this_ will be the HARBINGER of my triumph!" He seized an old microwave and rattled it around, listening carefully to the side. "Yooooouuuu..." he told the kitchen implement lovingly, " _you_ my son, will succeed where my last creation _FAILED_!"

At this, the delusional wizard screamed in fury, raising the microwave above his head. "ROLLY! A _FAILURE_! Made of ice or not, NEVER send CANDY to do a WIZARD'S job!" He brought the microwave back down and hugged it to his blue-shirted chest, the power cord flopping about at his knees.

"Ssssshhhhhhh..." he whispered to the appliance, stroking it. "You will bring the end... the end to the bringers of fire... _and all will be co_ -"

He was interrupted by a sound from one of the side passages dug into the ice; a sort of distressed, anguished groan drifting up the stairs from below. Gritting his teeth, the Ice Prince whirled around and, carrying the microwave protectively under one arm, fired a blast of ice from his hand that flew down the stairs to the corridors below, causing a pained yelp from it's target.

"GUNTHER!" Screamed the Prince furiously, "I! TOLD! YOU! TO! BE _QUIET!_ WHEN I'M! _SCHEMING!"_

There were a few seconds of silence before a pained, gruff voice called back: "Okay. Sorry, man. I'll stop..."

The Ice Prince returned to coddling the nonfunctional machine, pushing the interruption from his mind. "Don't mind Gunther, he doesn't understand... he will... he'll see when we bring about the Age of Winter, it will all be clear... _crystal clear_... like _ice..."_

Setting the microwave down, the Prince began to gather more scrap, assembling it all together with some makeshift welding equipment while muttering to himself. "They'll see... they'll all see... steal my crown, will you Simon? Throw it into the place I fear most? Bring fire into my kingdom? Nonononoooo... that will not stand. Did you think I would not keep an eye one you? Did you think I wouldn't see you move into that tree? You've given me the perfect opportunity... you defeated me last with robots... let's see how your hams like it when they get kicked by a robot of my own..."

Within minutes, he had cobbled together something that, though small and crude, could be called a robot: with the microwave serving as a central body, installed on top of a pair of tank-like treads, with a pronged arm and a tin can on top, serving as a head even down to the leering face carelessly scribbled on the front. A bit of simplistic circuitry and wiring completed the ensemble. The Ice Prince smiled at his creation, and rubbed his hands together. "And now, my metal child, I give you... THE GIFT OF LIFE!" With a gesture, he blasted the machine with dazzling, neon-blue lightning, and it immediately whirred to life.

"Ouch!"

"Holy Stuff! It talked! HAHAHA!"

The little robot looked around in a moment of confusion, before it's view settled on the Ice Prince, and it smiled. "Hello, Creator!"

"Whoah!" said the Prince with a grin. "Hey, man!"

"My name is Neptr!" said the abomination of common sense. "It stands for Never-Ending Poison-Throwing Robot!"

The Prince laughed triumphantly. "PERFECT! Exactly the kind of robot I was hoping to make!" Not really knowing how to respond, Neptr simply laughed along, before asking:

"Tell me, creator, what is my purpose?"

The Ice Prince smiled at his mechanical son, baring his razor-edged teeth. He floated down to the ground, and put a fatherly arm around Neptr. "Well, you see Neptr... I need you to find a fella by the name of _Simon..."_

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Simon shoved open one of the Tree Fort's upstairs windows, letting the sunlight stream in unfiltered while also, hopefully, airing out the musty room within. He took a moment to appreciate the midday breeze passing through; the Fool had kept the house humid and warm. As such, it was nice to take a moment to enjoy the birds gathered on the branches outside, including a swallow that seemed to be chirping angrily at a tern. Simon watched as the tern held its ground until the swallow finally flew away, and the victorious bird turned to stare at the human in silence.

Unfortunately, the peace was interrupted by a loud sound; a _thud_ as something hit the floor. Simon turned around to see Declan dragging the now-full sack back into the room. "I gathered up all those dead rats the little freak was keeping in his freezer. So nasty... you think he ate these things?"

"I don't know. I don't want to know. Let's just get rid of them."

"Truth. I'll meet you downstairs."

As Declan dragged the bag across the room, Simon noticed that the tern had hopped up to the windowsill, and was now staring up at him obsessively. The human raised an eyebrow and stared back at it, the standoff continuing well after Declan was gone.

"Sooooooo... are you... a magic bird? Can you talk? Grant wishes? Turn people into spoons?"

The bird just kept staring. Simon shrugged, and walked away to go open the rest of the windows. The tern watched him leave, before moving away and fluttering back out into the sky, and up onto the upper branches of the tree. It scanned the horizon, and saw something small and grey moving towards the fort.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Neptr trundled along the rolling green hills, his treads staining in the grass. A simple smile alighted his face as he made his way, slowly but certainly, to the distant tree. Within his microwave body, globs of venom were being mixed to form his lethal projectiles. In order to pass the time, the little robot began rapping outloud to himself:

 _"Working for the Master,_

 _inflicting his disaster,_

 _Bringing Simon Petrikov into the hereafter._

 _Faster, I don't need a blaster,_

 _Off to get this squatter._

 _It's time for a slaughter,_

 _I've got it, it's no bother_

 _Because I live to please you, father._

I am here!"

Neptr looked up at the treehouse from below. The leaves were still in the early afternoon swelter. The machine continued to gaze upward for a moment, enjoying the quiet, before swiveling to look around, searching for his reason for coming. The search was a brief one, as the fort's front door was promptly kicked open from within, and Simon and Declan emerged, dragging the enormous bag again. They failed to immediately notice Neptr, and stuck to their work, grunting in exertion as they hauled the sack across the grass. A red streak was left behind as they went.

Declan grumbled irritably through his mouthful of burlap. "I know, I know," Simon reassured. "We won't be doing this forever, and when it's over, it'll have been worth it." Neptr watched quietly as they continued, only making it another ten feet before having to stop, Simon wiping sweat off his head while Declan panted. The human's face scrunched up in disgust. "Ugh, Declan, your _breath_..."

"I can't help it, buttface."

"I know," Simon repeated. "You don't have sweat glands. It's all this blasted work. I can't believe the Fool felt the need to have _this many_ rats."

"How many were in there?"

"I don't know, I think it was some eighty, ninety..."

"My sensors count one-hundred two!" said Neptr helpfully, raising his prod arm as though he were in a classroom.

Both man and dog wheeled around in surprise to look at the little robot. "Oh... thanks." Simon said uncertainly. "It's so nice to... have... such helpful neighbors..."

Declan decided to be more direct. "Hey, rusty, who are you?"

"My name is not rusty!" said Neptr happily, driving in a circle. "I am Neptr, the Never-Ending Poison-Throwing Robot!"

"Poison-Throwing!?" Simon asked in alarm, before exchanging a glance with Declan.

"He does kinda smell like poison." the dog reported, before looking back at their guest. "Why are you here?"

Neptr looked surprised. "Oh! I nearly forgot! Thank you for reminding me, strange skinny bear!"

"Uh, I'm actually a d-"

"I'm supposed to do this!" Neptr opened his microwave door, and with a quick, circular motion of his arm, launched something at them.

The duo yelled in surprise and Simon ducked as the projectile soared right over his head and splattered to the ground behind him. He looked over his shoulder at it; the venomous, green-and-yellow blob sizzled on the grass, which shriveled and browned around the point where it had landed. "Run!" He yelled, and both he and Declan took off, wheeling around the vast trunk of the fort.

"Wait!" Neptr yelled after them, concerned. "I missed! You have to let me try again!" He rapidly began to roll in pursuit, priming another poison blob.

Simon and Declan had a decided speed advantage over Neptr, and were able to make their way around the tree quickly, skidding to stop as they considered what to do next. "Blast, my flamethrower's inside... we'll have to try and-"

"-go all the way around to the front door, yeah." Declan finished for him. "But he's gonna see you unless... ah, crap."

"What?"

"You know 'what,' unless I distract him. I'm gonna need to draw his attention while you go gear up and fry him."

"No, I'm not having you run around like a sacrificial lamb."

"Mmm, lamb..."

"I don't know what he's throwing, but I'm guessing it's probably a contact poison, getting hit will most likely be fatal. For heaven's sake, all I want is to go home, why are people always trying to kill me!?"

Declan considered the question. "Have they heard you talk?"

"Aaaaaand I'm suddenly feeling okay about your distraction plan."

"Ah, come on!"

"Found you!" Neptr reported cheerily, having just rounded the corner and caught up with them. He launched another glob, prompting them to dodge it and take off again.

"Well, that solves that!" said Declan happily. "Door's unguarded, we can get inside!"

"And _then what!?_ He'll follow us!"

"Uh, lock ourselves in? What's he gonna do, _poison the door!?"_

Simon considered the plan as they skidded to a stop in front of the fort, having completely circumnavigated it.

"...Alright, fine." he said. "Inside, let's go!"

They ran in, he shut the door behind them, and turned the lock. They looked at each other and waited for a moment. Soon, they heard the sound of Neptr's treads outside, before silence. And after another moment, something splattering against the door. And after another, Neptr's disappointed voice saying, "Awwwwww..."

"Well, that was easy." said Declan. "Go doors. Doors for life. Way to be a team player, doors. Let's go eat something."

Simon gritted his teeth uncomfortably. "Well... there is something worrying..."

"What?"

"...Let's go upstairs, I'll show you."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of." said Simon. He and Declan were poking their heads out of the second-story window, looking down at their front door, before which Neptr still sat. The little machine looked up at them, smiled, and waved.

"Hello Simon! Hello strange omnivorous horse!"

"So..." Declan asked, "has he just never seen a dog before, or what?"

"This isn't going to work." Simon continued. "This is the same problem I ran into with the zombies on my first day in Ooo. He's... Hey! What did you say your name was!?"

"I am Neptr, the Never-Ending Poison-Throwing Robot!"

"Thank you! Like I said, Neptr's a robot, he doesn't need food or sleep. He can wait out there forever, which means we'll never be able to leave unless we capture him."

Simon looked around for inspiration, but found none in the birds circling the tree, or the leaves hanging still in the baking afternoon. "I mean..." he said as he worked the problem through in his head, "he can't attack if his central hatch can't open, I guess."

"You mean the microwave?" Declan asked.

"Yeah. We could seal it."

"Couldn't he have other weapons?"

"No... he would have tried them on the door..."

"Right... so how do we do it?"

"...Ropes?" Simon suggested with an unhelpful shrug.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Three minutes later, Neptr was still outside, resting about ten feet from the front door and staring at it blankly. He was trying to come up with a way to get it.

He couldn't think of a way to get in.

After a while, he tried lobbing another chunk of poison at the door. It collided with a pathetic _splat_ , and began dripping down the wood. "Shoot." Neptr said in helpless dismay. Just as he was trying to think of something else, however, it proved unnecessary: the lock clicked, the door flew open, and Simon Petrikov launched himself from the house, screaming frantically as he waved a bundle of ropes around over his head. The robot was too surprised to act immediately, as Simon dove at him and tackled him aside, still yelling incoherently as he worked his hands to bind Neptr in the ropes.

After about ten seconds, Simon stopped yelling, and looked down at his handiwork: the machine was tightly tied up, with the lines seemingly holding his microwave door shut. It tried to open, but would not budge.

"Well..." the human said, wiping his temples. "That worked."

Declan emerged from the door, looking irritated. "Sure did, if the plan was to make him freaking _deaf._ "

"...That was adrenaline."

"I can't throw poison!" Neptr called in dismay. "Please, take the ropes off, I'm supposed to goop you in the face!"

"No. said Simon. "...And please don't say that again."

Declan came up alongside him. "You know, I really expected taking down the death robot to be a lot harder."

"Right? That was easy as pie."

"Mmm, pie..."

Simon cleared his throat and looked down at his captive, who was running his upended treads in a futile attempt to move. "Now, interrogation time. Neptr, I demand that you tell us why you came here."

Neptr smiled. "Oh, that's easy! Because my creator told me to!"

Declan furrowed his brow. "Your creator? Who's that?"

"You know him as the Ice Prince!"

"Ooooooooooh dear." said Simon, putting a hand to his forehead.

"You've got to be kidding me." said Declan. "This psycho _again!?_ What is his beef with us!?"

Neptr answered helpfully. "He said that if I threw poison at you, you wouldn't be able to stop him from going to the Candy Kingdom!" the little robot frowned. "I'm not sure I understand why..."

"You've been very helpful, Neptr." Simon said. "But why are you telling us all this? Isn't that betraying your master?"

Neptr still looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Simon looked at Declan. "He seems awfully naiive."

"Yeah... we need to stop assuming that everyone who tries to kill us is competent. They're all kind of idiots."

"Well, let's see how far that will stretch. Neptr, how did the Ice Prince know we were here? We only just arrived."

Seemingly happy to have the conversation back in an area he could comprehend, Neptr replied without hesitation. "Oh, he told me he has been watching you for some time."

"How?"

"With that!" with his pronged arm, he point up to the top of the treefort. Simon and Declan followed his indication and spotted, sitting atop the tree, the arctic tern that Simon had seen at the window, staring down at them.

"What? The tern? How does that work?"

"It's a magic bird! My creator can see through its eyes!"

"Are you for real!? Where does he _get all this stuff!?"_

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Far away and several minutes earlier, the Ice Prince watched through a crystalline membrane of ice, seeing through the gaze of the arctic tern on the roof of Simon Petrikov's tree fort. He sat with his arms around his knees, eyes wide and unblinking as he stared at the proceedings. The plan was not going as well as he had hoped. He ground his teeth nervously as Simon wrestled down Neptr with the ropes. "No..." he muttered to himself. "Noooooooooooo..."

"Well... that worked." He heard Simon say from the viewscreen.

"Sure did, if the plan was to make him freaking _deaf._ "

"...that was adrenaline."

"GGRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" Ice Prince howled, tugging at his hat in frustration. It looked like Neptr had been capture. Ignoring what was being said on screen, he drifted up off the floor of his frozen castle and began to float back and forth, staring daggers at the ice below him as he paced in midair.

He thought and thought and thought. With three failures to kill Petrikov in a row, he was beginning to wonder if he would ever manage it. "Is this it?" he muttered to himself, his voice cracking with tension. "Destined to duel forever? Eternal foes? _Noooooooo..._ NO! NO MORE DEFEATS! As long as I can spy on him, I have the advantage, I can always-" He trailed off in mid-sentence as his attention returned to the ice viewscreen, where Neptr was speaking.

"Oh, he told me he has been watching you for some time."

"How?"

"No..." Ice Prince said. "NO NO NO, YOU LITTLE BROTHERSTUMPER, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"With that!"

"What? The tern? How does that work?

"It's a magic bird! My creator can see through its eyes!"

The Ice Prince grabbed fistfuls of his own golden hair and tore them out in rage, his eyes bugging out as he screamed at the ceiling. "WHAT THE BLOOD, NEPTR? CAN'T I TRUST ANYONE!?"

"...You can trust me, man." said a gruff voice from the next room.

"I SAID BE QUIET, GUNTHER! ARGH, NOW I HAVE TO GO KILL SIMON MYSELF!"

Screaming in fury, his hands sparking with magic, the Ice Prince flew through the open window and out into the cloudless sky.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

"Wait, wait..." said Simon. "So... if the Prince can see everything we do... he could be on his way here right now!"

"Really? Yaaaay!" cheered Neptr. "We can have a party!"

"Oh, we're throwing a party all right. Declan, stay here and watch out for IP. I'm going to go get the flamethrower."

"Got it."

Simon stormed back towards the house. "That guy wants to keep messing with us... he comes near the house, we'll barbecue him."

"Mmm, barb-"

"STOP THAT."

Simon moved quickly, taking the spiral stairs at a hustle and scrambling to find his weapon of choice. His mapmaking had left him with a fairly good idea of the Ice Kingdom's distance from the fort; however, he had no clue how fast the Ice Prince could fly, meaning that he really didn't have a way of judging how long he had to get ready. To that end, he figured it was probably best he hurry. The flamethrower was still where he had left it after fending off yesterday's attack by Sword-Shark and Science-Cat: propped against the fireplace in the living room. Glad that it hadn't been moved (he would never have found it in time in what was left of the Fool's mess), Simon slung the weapon and turned it on.

Taking a breath, he adjusted his glasses, went to the window, and got ready, looking out at the distant peaks of the Ice Kingdom.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Neptr and Declan sat before the fort where Simon had left them, Neptr still tied up and Declan looking out at the Ice Kingdom just as his companion was. The dog sniffed the air, and caught something familiar. He got up and trotted around the fort to below the open window where Simon was. "Hey!" he yelled up. "I can smell him, he's coming!"

Simon was momentarily surprised to hear the canine's voice, and looked down at him. "You sure?"

"I mean... yeah, pretty sure. I'm a-"

"-Siberian Husky, yeah. How far?"

"Not all th-"

ZAP.

In a flash of blue light, Declan was trapped in a block of ice.

"Ah!" Simon dropped below the window just in time as a jagged burst of blue light flew over his head and into the living room behind him, hitting the torn, risqué painting and freezing it solid. The painting fell from the wall and shattered as the Ice Prince sailed towards the house in a swirl of snow, his teeth and crown glinting in the sun as his cape flapped. Simon tried to stand up to get a good look, but was forced into cover again by another incoming blast, so he decided to restrategize. Tucking the flamethrower close by its strap, he dropped to all fours and crawled away from the window, trying to make his way across the room and to the kitchen.

He was too slow, and the Ice Prince flew into the window and landed, perched on the sill like the bird he had been using to spy. Spotting Simon, he raised both hands and began firing a flurry of blasts all over the room. "DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!"

Simon jumped to his feet in a panic and ran for it, holding his hands over his head protectively as the air crackled and froze all around him, and through some miracle, managed to reach the kitchen unharmed. Knowing that he had only bought himself a couple seconds, the antiquarian cleared the room, threw open the window over the sink, and dove straight out, internally praying that he could survive the fall.

Simon _did_ survive the fall... for exactly the wrong reasons. As he was lunging through the window, the strap of his flamethrower became caught on the knob. The force of him falling pulled the strap all the way down his body, until it caught at his foot. Simon's descent was cut short with a sudden jerk as he, thirty feet off the ground and flailing like a gerbil on PCP, hung from the strap of his weapon, one end wrapped around his ankle and the other around the window's latch. His glasses made to slide off his face, but Simon wasted no time in reaching up to grab them and hold them there.

He looked up at his predicament, seeing the strap swing from the open window as he hung from it helplessly. After a moment, however, he saw something much worse emerging slowly from the open window: first a pointed yellow crown with red jewels in it, then a white hat leaking copious amounts of blonde hair, and finally the pale blue-eyed face of the Ice Prince, which broke into a psychotic smile as he saw Simon's predicament. "HA-HAAAAA! Oh, the itsy-bitsy Simon fell out the kitchen window... Down came the Ice Prince and I'M GONNA FREAKING KILL YOU!"

"That is NOT HOW THE SONG GOES!" Simon snapped angrily.

"Well that's how MY VERSION GOES!" The Ice Prince yelled back through a shower of spit.

"That's because you're crazy!"

"YOUR MOM IS CRAZY! AND STOP CORRECTING ME!"

"NEVEEEEERRRRRR!" Simon yelled overdramatically, lashing out with his free foot and kicking the boy in the face.

"Argh!" As he staggered backwards in shock, the Prince accidentally fired a blast from his outstretched hand, hitting the strap, which froze and promplty shattered under Simon's weight.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH-OOF!" Simon hit the, thankfully, very soft grass hard, bruising himself badly and getting winded. This was not the last of the pain, as the heavy metal flamethrower that Dr. Petrikov had chosen as his signature weapon, now freed from its strap, landed on his back.

 _"...Oooooooowwwwwwww_..."

"Ow!" Yelled the Ice Prince from above. "That flipping HURT!"

Simon weakly pulled himself to a sitting position, the flamethrower rolling off his back and clattering into the grass. He looked up just in time to see his enemy lean out of the window and angrily throw a bolt down at him. Gaining his second wind just in time, Simon seized his weapon and moved aside, the blast frosting over the grass where it hit. Unfortunately, Simon found that he was too hurt to run, and could only limp weakly away, panting from exertion as he tried to put extra distance between himself and the insane royalty that was pursuing him. As he moved, the Ice Prince waved his hands and summoned an ice slide, snaking all the way down from his perch. Jumping the windowsill, he slid all the way down, his bare blue feet landing on green grass.

He looked after Simon just in time to see him vanish around the front of the house. Snarling under his breath, the Prince floated up and flew after him.

Simon, meanwhile, was beginning to regain his step as he passed by the still-restrained form of Neptr. "Is that my father I hear?" asked the robot happily. "May I say hello?"

Simon didn't have time to answer as his pursuer swirled around the corner and began cackling while tossing bolts of energy at him. Naturally, the antiquarian wasted no time diving for cover; however, as there was none, he found himself merely jumping around and screaming in panic, ducking and weaving to try and avoid as many blasts as he could. In the course of this confusing melee, one bolt happened to hit the ropes holding Neptr, freezing and breaking them. Free of his incarceration, the Ice Prince's son began waving his arm in an attempt to rebalance himself on his treads.

Meanwhile, Simon was taking advantage of a momentary lull in the Prince's attacks to finally retaliate, aiming the flamethrower and unleashing it's fury. At the same time as a stream of flames spurted forth, the Ice Prince raised both his hands and screeched, casting a stream of high-pressure snow back at Simon. The fountain of fire and the influx of ice collided halfway between the fighters, resulting in a huge and sudden explosion of mist that propelled them both away from each other, both yelling out their surprise in the smokescreen.

As a result of the blast, Simon was winded once again as he crashed to the ground, and found that, without the protective strap to keep it on his person, he lost his grip on his weapon; it was thrown aside in the shockwave. Likewise, as the Ice Prince also collided with the grass, his crown was knocked away, rolling off into the mist on its side. Neptr was luckier; the shockwave had blown him upright, back onto his treads. He looked around in confusion at the cloud of mist. He wasn't really sure what was going on, but it didn't seem pleasant. As he watched, both Simon and the Prince slowly rose to sitting positions, Simon groaning in pain, and IP groaning in faint annoyance.

As they looked up at each other and locked eyes, each simultaneously noticed how each had been disarmed. They both looked around for their respective weapons, but could not spot them in the mist. "Oh dear..." Simon muttered under his breath. In if he were not injured, he suspected that the maniacal and _surprisingly_ strong twelve-year old could likely best him in hand-to-hand combat. The worst came to mind, and Simon found his thoughts invaded by the image of the rabid preteen scratching out his eyes.

Thankfully, grappling did not appear to be the Ice Prince's first instinct. Right off the bat, it took several moments of him looking around wildly before he reconciled the fact that he couldn't find the crown, with was followed by some pathetic babbling direction down towards the ground. Before Simon could figure out his next move, Neptr rolled into view and addressed the Prince. "Father! It is so good to see you! What is happening?"

This caught the attention of both combatants, who were momentarily paralyzed with the implications that Neptr brought to the fight. Simon blanched with fear, while the Ice Prince grinned viciously. "Neptr! My son! Quick, throw poison at him!" the Prince pointed a blue finger towards Simon.

"Oh! Okay!" said Neptr, turning towards Simon, who talked quickly.

"No! Neptr, don't, _don't_ throw poison at me, I don't think you completely understand what will happen!"

"I understand what will happen if I throw poison at you!"

"You do?"

"Yes! You will get hit with the poison!"

"Well, yes, but do you understand what happens after that?"

Neptr hesitated for a moment, thinking. "...Will we all be friends?"

"NEPTR!" Screeched Ice Prince, "I order you to kill him right now! QUIT BUNKING AROUND ALREADY!"

"Kill? What is 'kill', pappy?"

"It's WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN TO HIM IF YOU JUST STOP WASTING TIME AND DO AS YOUR CREATOR SAYS ALREADY!"

Simon took a deep breath, trying to focus. He did his best to channel a part of himself that he had not had to call upon for a very, very long time: the teacher. "Neptr." Simon asked the confused robot patiently, adjusting his glasses. "Do you understand what death is?"

Neptr looked back to Simon, wearing a puzzled expression. "I have a very huge vocabulary built into me!" he answered.

"Yes. But you did not answer my question. Do you know what death is?"

The Ice Prince looked just as puzzled as his creation. "Neptr, will you just _throw already?"_

Neptr gave his father a confused look, but turned back to Simon. "No. I cannot find the definition. What is death?"

"Well, Neptr, to answer that, I must ask you: what is life?"

Neptr smiled. "That is easy! Life is being alive! It is what I am experiencing now!" His expression turned confused again, and he put his hand (or metal fork arm) to his chin (or the base of his tin can) in consideration. "At least I think I am..."

Simon ignored this last part; he didn't have time for the robot to go through an existential crisis right now. "Well, death is the opposite of life. It's what happens when a person _stops_ living, they stop experiencing this."

"Then what do they experience?"

"Er..." Simon rubbed his head awkwardly. Now _that_ was a heavy question, but one he should have expected. "Well, no one knows for _sure_... but, that's not important right now. What matters is that death is bad, because it takes away your life. And when you poison someone, they die. Neptr, the Ice Prince wants you to kill me."

"What!?" Neptr asked, shocked. "No! My creator is kind, he made me! He would never make me do something bad like that! Tell him, pappy! You would never make someone dead!"

Ice Prince blinked, and then raised his hands indignantly. " _What?_ Of course I would! That's what all this is about! DUH!" Neptr backed up in surprise, while Simon simply facepalmed, albeit gratefully, at the Prince's stupidity.

"But I don't think I want to..." the machine said, sounding distraught.

"Listen, Neptr..." said Simon. "Why don't you come and stay with Declan and I? I promise you'll never have to throw poison if you don't want to."

"NO!" the Prince shrieked, pounding his fists angrily on the grass. "You are coming back to the Ice Kingdom with me! I created you! YOU'RE MINE!"

"Still a principality," said Simon, earning a glare from the preteen. The mist was beginning to noticeably clear out now, the surrounding roll of the grassland becoming more visible. Neptr looked out forlornly towards his frozen birthplace, still sparkling in the afternoon sun.

"...I am sorry, father," he said finally, addressing Ice Prince. "I do not want to help you hurt people. I am going to stay with Simon and the land-dwelling otter he lives with. I hope you understand."

The Ice Prince looked around furiously, and saw, glinting in the sunlight, his now-visible crown lying in the grass. "UNDERSTAND BUTTS!" he howled, lunging towards the artifact with both hands outstretched. Simon made a mad dash to find the flamethrower, but it proved to be unneeded. There was a quick _chun-clack_ of machinery moving, before the crown was struck hard and knocked over by a glob of Neptr's poison. The Prince hurriedly stopped himself from touching the crown, pulling his hands back with an absurdly high-pitched scream as the disgusting toxin oozed down over the metal. "No! NOOOO!" the poor lunatic seemed torn: he desperately wanted the crown, but didn't want to touch the poison, so he kept reaching forward to take and recoiling, back and forth and back and forth like a deranged yo-yo.

"Neptr!" Simon said happily. "Well done!"

"Thank you, Mr. Simon! I am glad to have helped."

"Well, you certainly did." The human stood up and turned his attention back to the Prince, who was still umming and erring over his commitment to reclaiming the crown. "It's over. You can't fight both me and Neptr, not without the crown. And you can't put it on without poisoning yourself. You're going to have to take it home for a thorough cleaning, I think."

"And you can not fly without it!" Neptr pointed out. "You are going to have to walk back to the Ice Kingdom!"

Ice Prince glared hatefully at both of them, before undoing his cape and scooping up the crown in it, throwing it over his shoulder as a makeshift bindle. Simon watched him angrily stalk away towards his distant kingdom for a minute, before remembering something. "Oh, crumbs, Declan!"

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

"Can I just say that I'm _really_ sick of getting frozen?"

"I know, Declan."

"This is seriously the fourth time. I'm only five years old. I can't keep doing this."

"I get you."

Simon and Neptr chipped away at the ice containing the irate dog, having moved it out into the afternoon sun. "And why is it always me?" he asked, now only half-trapped in the ice. "How many times have you been frozen!?"

"Twice." Simon answered with a sigh.

"[i]Twice.] Half the times I have. Just saying." He looked down at Neptr. "So... are we okay with him now?"

"Yes, Neptr's going to live with us from now on. He's not so bad."

"I don't know... I'm not sure if I'm okay with that."

"Well, it can't- AH!"

For the second time today, Simon ducked to avoid a surprise attack, as a glass flask full of crackling potion flew over his head and shattered on a nearby rock, transforming it into a three-headed beaver that promptly scurried away in bewilderment. Simon, Neptr and Declan all looked up the hill to see their attackers: the humanoid, labcoat-wearing cat with his fistfuls of flasks, and his sword-wielding shark friend. Science Cat laughed and raised another vial to throw, only to be suddenly struck in the face with one of Neptr's poison globs. "Aaah, my eyes!" he shrieked, before a second blob hit Sword Shark in the same fashion. The two ran off, screaming and trying to wipe off their faces.

"...Okay, I changed my mind, I am very okay with this." said Declan.

Simon patted Neptr on the can that passed for his head. "That'll do, robot. That'll do."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Hours later, after the Ice Prince had finally finished lugging his crown across the grasslands, across the Ice Kingdom, and up the frigid slopes of the hollowed-out ice mountain that formed his castle, he sat down on the floor of his throne room, clutching his knees to his chest and fuming. After glowering in silence like this for a time, he stood up and screamed in anger, aiming his hands around the room as if to fire ice blasts, only for nothing to happen without his crown on. "WHAT THE JUNK!? WHAT THE JUNK!? WHATTHEJUNKWHATTHEJUNKWHATTHEJUNK!" He began angrily kicking the wall. "WHY? CAN'T? I? KILL HIIIIIIIMMMMMM!"

He started pacing, furiously tugging at his hat. "I just... I just need to focus on the PLAN... Yesssssss... freeze _everything_. If I can just take out the Candy Kingdom... GRAH!"

As he rambled to himself, someone emerged from the side passage: a bipedal, yellow-furred bulldog, with big black eyes and a worried expression. He watched the Prince rant for a minute before cautiously speaking in a gravelly but nervous voice. "Uh... Finn? Hey, you look pretty wound up, man, maybe you should get some sleep."

"I DON'T NEED TO SLEEP, GUNTHER! I NEEEEEED TO... WIN!" The Ice Prince spat back.

"Right..." said the dog, rubbing his head uncomfortably. "It's just... I was thinking, maybe you should give up this whole crazy ice guy thing now, dude. It was really funny the first few months, but it's... not... anymore..."

The Prince glared daggers at him, but he took a deep breath and nervously continued. "I also think maybe you should let BMO go now. I know he likes games, but I don't think he wants to be stuck in there anymore, man..."

"NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The Ice Prince howled rabidly. "ROBOTS MAKE PROBLEMS! I SEE THAT NOW! IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO HELP ME, THEN YOU CAN JUST GO BACK DOWNSTAIRS!" He collapsed, suddenly crying, cradling the crown (still wrapped up in his cloak) and weeping on the floor.

"Oh... alright, man. I'll go." said the bulldog sadly. He turned back to the door, but looked over his shoulder one last time at the Ice Prince, who was rocking back and forth with the crown in his arms, babbling incoherently.

Jake the Dog sighed miserably, and went back downstairs. He was beginning to think he had lost his brother for good.

AN: Wasn't quite feeling this one at first, but I think I got into a real rhythm with it. As always, please remember to leave a review, they really help me stay motivated.

Chapter 8 should be up soonish.


	8. Chapter 8 - Ocean of Truth

For a man who had arrived in Ooo with truly nothing but the clothes on his back, Simon thought he had done rather well for himself.

This was thrown into sharp relief as he stood once more on the beach of Iceberg Lake one mild morning, the cold breeze from the nearby Ice Kingdom filtering through his hair. It was impossible to be sure, but for all Simon knew, he may well have been standing on the same bit of coast where he and Declan had washed ashore five months earlier, trapped in the ice. From a confused, frightened, hungry man with nothing useful on him and a surly dog, to his current situation: he had a nice home, a lab, a magic tome, weaponry, allies, enemies, a helpful venomous robot assistant, and... the same surly dog. It had been quite a transformation, and today, Simon hoped it would pay off.

He took the map he had been carrying under his arm and unrolled it, gazing upon the parchment critically. Declan described the map as "unreadable"; it was now peppered in notes and measurements, almost every visible space taken up by Simon's bold, jagged handwriting. But it made sense to Simon himself, and he was the only one who needed to understand it. The point that attracted his attention now was the complex series of tidal charts packed into the northeast corner of the map, in the waters to the right of the Ice Kingdom. All of his research so far had led him to conclude that this was where he would find the answers he sought.

"Hey!" yelled a nearby voice, and Simon looked up to see Declan calling to him from a nearby grassy hill. "I can see them, they're almost here!"

The antiquarian waved to indicate he had understood, rolled the map back up, and jogged over to meet the dog on the hill. As he approached, Declan looked back out across the grasslands, where something was approaching: a massive, circular glob of pink gel, some thirty feet high, simply rolling across the plains to meet them. Simon blinked at the bizarre sight, and looked down at his companion.

"Well, she knows how to make... an entrance? I guess?"

The gooey orb rolled along at a respectable pace, leaving a thin pink slime trail on the grass behind it, like an exceptionally effeminate slug. It slowed to a stop right before Simon and Declan, and with a squelching sound, Princess Bubblegum simply slid out of it, landing perfectly on her feet and raising her hands theatrically.

"Ta-daaaaaaa!" she said with a smile. Simon replied with mild applause. "So what's going on, Simon? And why'd you have me bring my sub?"

"Er..." Simon looked questioningly up at her gelatinous vehicle. "That's not the sub, is it?"

"No, that's just a way to get around." she replied dismissively. "The submarine's _inside_ the goop glop."

"Ah, excellent. Anyway, Princess, thank you for coming out. I know you're one to trade favors, and I've amassed the odd skill and resource since we last met. I can be of use, at any rate."

"So you want to trade a favor to use my sub? That's cool, actually. I think I already have something you can help me with. But one favor's not going to be worth giving up my only submarine."

Simon waved his hand. "I don't need to keep it, only borrow it for one run out. By my math, there's an 85% chance that I'll get it back to you perfectly intact."

PB stroked her chin. "I do like percentages... Okay, Simon, we have a deal. You can borrow the sub, and in return, you'll owe me a favor."

"Brilliant!"

Bubblegum turned to her unusual vehicle and yelled up, "Okay, bring it out boys!"

With more squelching, two rattleballs descended through the gel, clutching the submarine from either side. All three machines emerged onto the grass, and Simon stepped forward to examine the seacraft.

The submarine was a small craft, intended for one-person exploration, with a bulbous, rounded front window. It was a brownish-orange color, with four portholes on the sides, a hatch on top, and a propeller in the back. It would do just fine. "Excellent." said Simon. "If you wouldn't mind having the rattleballs help me get it to the water?"

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

A matter of minutes later, the minisub bobbed in the soft waves of the lake, with Simon, Declan, the rattlers and PB all watching from the beach. "Well, there you go." said the Princess. "I've got some biz to stack, when should I pick this up?"

"Tomorrow morning will be fine, right here. Assuming my mission is wrapped up tonight, Declan and I are going to camp out here."

"Cool beans. See you soon, then." Bubblegum and her guards turned around and hiked up the beach towards the goop sphere, climbed into it and vanished inside with a disgusting sucking sound. The blob began to roll back towards the kingdom.

"Alright," asked Declan, "remind me why we're doing this?"

" _We're_ not doing anything." Simon replied. "There's only one diving suit, so you're staying behind to watch over the beach. I have to head down there for answers."

"What kind of answers?"

Simon pulled a book out of his jacket; one of the ones he had retrieved in his journey to the library. "I've researched this world's history extensively. A thousand years ago, there was some massive, defining incident called the "Great Mushroom War" that turned Ooo into the place it is today."

"Sounds about as stupid as I expected."

"Yes, I initially wrote it off as typical Ooo silliness as well, but then I started to think: what if 'mushroom' isn't intended quite so literally?"

Declan looked up at him quizzically, and Simon returned a significant stare, looking over his glasses as the dots connected in the dog's mind.

"Wait..." Declan said, as the realization started to dawn. "Mushroom _clouds?_ As in a nucular war!?"

"Nuclear." Simon corrected. "But yes, that's the general idea. Ooo's strangeness could in large part be a result of centuries of unchecked mutation."

"So... you think we're in the future? That we were just in that ice for over a thousand years, and there was an apocalypse while we were sleeping?"

"I think it's a possibility. And one that would explain a lot." He withdrew and unrolled the map again, holding it up for Declan to see. He pointed to the northeast corner. "My research indicates that there are the ruins of an ancient city underneath this section of ocean. I'm going to go down there to look for clues, to prove or disprove my theory."

Declan squinted at the map, before shaking his head. "This is a big risk. What if something goes wrong down there?"

"Please, Declan, I came prepared." Reaching into his jacket again, Simon produced a pair of walkie-talkies. "I've modified these for extreme range, they should be able to keep us in contact. If you lose contact, just... see if someone will help you rescue me. Bubblegum should, considering I both have her submarine and owe her a favor."

Declan looked at the walkies critically. "How am I supposed to...?"

Simon placed one of them on the sand. "Just put your paw on the button to talk."

"Look ma, no thumbs."

"Precisely. Alright, I'd better get ready."

Declan bit down on his further reservations as Simon moved over to the rock he had left his diving suit on. Donning the suit in full, the antiquarian moved to the water's edge and waded into Iceberg Lake.

It seemed like the process of swimming out to the sub, climbing aboard, sealing and pressurizing it, and taking the controls took no time at all, and before Simon knew it he had the craft moving out across the surface of the lake. He clicked on the walkie talkie as he cruised.

"Declan, can you hear me? Over."

"Yeah, all fine." Came the dog's tinny-sounding voice. "How's it running?"

"You're supposed to say 'over'. Over."

"I don't care. How's the stupid submarine working?"

"Fine I guess. I've never really done this before, but I know how."

"Please tell me you didn't get all your training just from reading a book."

"Alright."

"So how did you train?"

"...Well, now you've put me in a catch-22."

"Oh, for god's sake..."

Simon checked his compass. "Alright, this lake connects to the ocean via a channel; weirdly, it flows in from the sea, rather than out into it. I'm going to have to be careful not to hit any of the icebergs flowing in from the Ice Kingdom's waters."

"Um... yeah, I hear those can be bad for your health. You know, in hindsight, you really should have started _from the ocean_."

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty."

"Yeah, give me an update on that when there's a shard of ice stuck in your eye."

Despite the morbid imagery, Simon smiled against himself. Something about Declan's ability to turn the situation into a passive-aggressive joke oddly put his mind at ease.

The journey upriver (or downriver, depending on your definition) wasn't as harrowing as Simon feared; the waters were slow, and there were relatively few icebergs drifting in today. As a result, he was able to navigate his way around any potential collisions, despite the channel only being about two hundred feet at its widest, and before he knew it he and the sub were pushing their way out into the vast sea to the northeast of Ooo. As the vehicle floated on the waves, Simon smiled, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of the sunny blue sky over the _oceano_. He clicked his walkie. "Alright, I'm out over the blue. Getting ready to dive."

"Try not to die."

"Well, if you only want me to _try..."_

Simon worked the controls, and after a moment, he felt the tightening in his stomach as the craft suddenly dropped below the waves, immersing Simon in a world of blue and black, with slivers of light stabbing through the waves above, shifting and dancing like fairies. He wasn't very far out; he could still see the sandy ocean floor.

"Can you still hear me?"

"Yeah. You under yet?" Declan asked, his voice now a bit staticky. Simon picked up the talkie and looked at it uncertainly.

"I am... your signal's breaking up, just a little. It _shouldn't_ be, I modified these things myself..."

"You sound so offended. Well, you're coming in crystal clear right now, so I don't know what to tell you."

Simon sighed, placing the device back into a cradle in the console. "Alright. I'm going to press on, I'll check in every few minutes."

And that's what he did. Cruising through the inky azure of the ocean, Simon drifted on for some time, over the drop-off into more open waters. It was after this point, when the floor became invisible from this high up, that the explorer began a gradual descent, heading down towards deeper mysteries. He began to see lifeforms; strange, chubby, beige creatures that he had learned from his time in Ooo so far were known as "Sea lards". They were quite tranquil, simply smiling sleepily as Simon glided past them and closer to his goal.

"Declan, you there?" he asked. There was no answer. Simon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Can you hear me?"

Still nothing.

"I'm not hearing you. Listen, in case you are still picking me up, I'm going to continue talking. I'm almost at the area I marked on the map, I'll check in again when I reached it." He tried to keep the rising note of panic out of his voice as he concluded the monologue and switched the radio off. This mission had sounded so simple in his head, laughably easy, even, having to deal with something as basic as merely piloting a vehicle, as opposed to his typical battles against vampires and ice wizards. But now that he was here, he began to find the oppressive darkness of the ocean outside, and silence of the sub's interior, rather suffocating. There was a note of uncertainty and _size_ to this task that was only now beginning to sink in on Simon.

A crushing realization. Weighing down on him. Pressuring him, pushing down and freezing cold like so, so many tons of water and sand and darkness and solitude and it all just came crashing down and there was nothing he could do, because there was just so _much_ of it, infinitely surging and crashing and hiding leviathans unknown to science, and death, and _worse_ than death, the thought of knowing you would never be found.

"GUH!" Simon stood up from the console, whirling around and stepping to the back of the sub, collapsing to his knees and breathing hard. He tried to push all of those thoughts, and all of that panic, out of his mind. He focused on reason, and discovery. Something that always kept him focused, good old discovery, the wonderful feeling of learning something new. And today, Simon Petrikov was utterly convinced that he had learned something new indeed.

All those times in his life that he had flown or sailed over the ocean, and all the times he had looked down at the bumpy, ever-shifting surface of the water and wondered what lay beneath, he had never, ever realized how freaking terrifying it was.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Not far from where Simon was now, but well out of sight and therefore well out of mind, there lived a deranged young man whose real name was known to only a handful of people, and was known to most by the self-appointed moniker of Ice Prince. Ice Prince and Simon were enemies to be sure, and were more than aware of each other's existences, however there was still a lot about the Ice Prince that Simon didn't know, and didn't particularly care about at this point in his life. One such fact was that, for most of his twelve years, the Ice Prince had been mortally terrified of the ocean. This wasn't known to Simon, and if he had known it before today, he would have considered it, at best, possibly useful tactical information, and at worst, mere unimportant trivia.

Had he known it after this day, however, he would have considered it something the two of them had in common.

Nevertheless, Simon had largely managed to get his initial surge of panic under control by the time he reached the darkened seafloor, which he illuminated with the sub's overhead light, allowing him to shine bright silver on the sandy floor and glide carefully along it. Being on the hunt for information helped - Simon was always at his most focused when searching, which had helped him greatly on a number of antique-hunting expeditions.

After a time, Simon began to notice the seafloor titling mildly uphill, before beginning to level out again. He stopped the submarine, furrowing his brow. Something about the tilt of the landscape seemed oddly familiar, like a pattern he had studied before. Following a suspicion, Simon directed the sub upward through the water, ascending a solid eighty feet before rotating the vehicle to pan the light around. He had found something of an underwater hill, comprised of equal parts stone and sand, but what caught his attention was the noticeably domed shape of it. He activated the walkie-talkie.

"Declan, I seem to have found an underwater tell. A tell is an archaeological term, it refers to a mound of earth that was once an inhabited area, but it was abandoned for so long that the detritus dissolved into barely more than a hill. To the untrained eye, this would be nothing, but I know a tell when I see one. Hmf, you're probably making a joke about poker right now. At any rate, this tells me I'm on the right path. There could be more intact ruins around here..." He brought the sub back down and continued on. "I never thought I'd actually see a tell at the bottom of the ocean of all places... I suppose being underwater must have accelerated the decomposition of the structures. And yes, Declan, I am a nerd. Thank you for almost certainly pointing that out just now."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

The tell had only been the beginning of Simon's discoveries. Passing several more tells, he had begun to find his way into more concise ruins, carefully navigating over or around the remnants of walls and buildings. Everything, however, was simply too damaged and worn by time and water for Simon to pick out any details that could tell him about the civilization that had built them. "Declan, I've started to find the remains of the city. It's remarkably well-preserved... if it actually has all been down here for a thousand years, then I'm going to assume some kind of magic has been keeping it relatively intact."

A ways ahead, he could see the seafloor terminating in a sheer cliff headed straight up, kelp growing from a few cracks in the stone. Working the controls, he ascended, tracking the cliff upward a ways, before coming to the top and seeing something that gave him pause: the distinctive shape of several large buildings. There seemed to be more light up here, as he had gotten slightly closer to the surface, and he could make out massive rectangular silhouettes that looked unavoidably like modern skyscrapers.

Simon gaped at the sight for a moment, before clearing his throat and pushing ahead, driving the sub forth into the underwater city. As he passed over the edge of the cliff and entered the shadows of structures that had sat uninhabited beyond living memory, the atmosphere tangibly changed, an oppressive feeling of desolation crushing in from around. The rusted remains of cars sat half-buried in the sand, and what looked like a human tibia floated idly above an old bus stop. Going a bit pale, Simon had to try very hard to pull his view away from the bone to examine the buildings; the current had long stripped them of details such as paint and windows, and they sat as skeletons of their former selves, just colossal concrete monuments to the emptiness within them.

"Declan..." Simon said, his mouth dry, "I've discovered a city... I mean, the remains of one. It looks like it _could_ be from our time... but I need to keep searching to be sure. I need evidence. I'll look around for any structural gaps large enough to-"

He trailed off in mid-sentence, gazing ahead, where a massive plume of underwater dust had just burst from the top of a skyscraper far at the end of his current street. Huge chunks of rubble drifted down through the water, while up above, in the cloud, Simon thought he could see something else moving.

The antiquarian froze, paralyzed with terror at the silhouette of an enormous, serpentine shape slithering out of the cloud and descending, worming its way between the buildings. It was gargantuan - it had to be at least a hundred and fifty feet long, at least, and Simon couldn't see all of it with the skyscrapers blocking his view. The underwater city was still too gloomy to make out many details of its form; all that could be said for certain was its great size and snakelike shape. Simon sat, unable to move or think out of sheer horror as the leviathan swam from view, its fan-finned tail finally vanishing around a corner. The only evidence it had been here was the still settling rubble from the building it had plowed through.

Simon didn't move for a while. He barely even breathed. The mere thought of that thing existing down here with him made any notions of doing literally _anything_ seem stupidly terrifying. He ran a cold sweat, his dry mouth sitting slightly open as his eyes simply stared at where the creature had vanished around the corner. _Okay,_ he thought to himself. _Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. I can... Okay. Think. I can just leave. I can just turn the sub around and leave. That's what I'll do. I'm just leaving now. Easy peasy._ Suddenly very uncomfortable with how alone he was, Simon swiftly turned the talkie back on. "Ahem. Declan. There's... um... a monster down here. A really, really big sea monster. I think I'm going to head back now. Okay."

Taking a deep, shaky breath, he reclaimed the controls and began to slowly turn the submarine around. Once it was completely facing the opposite direction, he froze again. The monster's head was only fifty or so feet before him, resting on the sand. The creature was chalk-white; the crocodile-like head alone was the length of a school bus, with six pale, milky eyes (three on each side), jagged, somewhat misshapen teeth and catfish-like whiskers jutting from either side of the snout; said whiskers each looked long enough to impale ten men. The mouth continued back past the skull, existing for another twenty feet as a toothy tear in either side of the neck. The creature's long, scaly body was coiled over itself in the street, simply resting on the seafloor. It had four short, stumpy legs that didn't look particularly useful, and massive white dorsal fins shaped like fans running down the spine.

The eyes were open, but the creature did not stir. The restless, analytical side of Simon's mind pondered the creature being blind, but concluded that it was probably only _mostly_ blind. Still, it didn't seem to require sight, as the whiskers spasmed slightly in response to the submarine's movement, and the sea serpent began to stir, opening its mouth slightly to reveal two intertwined black tongues. Gills flexed on its neck, and it began to pan its head from side to side, the whiskers continuing to twitch as it searched for the source of the movement.

"Oh crumbs." Simon whispered meekly to himself. Adrenaline pumped, and paralysis began to be replaced with his fight-or-flight instinct, which had become very well-honed in the past several months. He looked to his right, and noted that the building there was particularly worn out, to the point that most of the lower walls and structure were gone, creating an angular cavern that could make excellent cover.

The sea serpent gnashed it's teeth and began to uncoil, and Simon made a choice. "Oh... screw it." Banking hard on the controls, he piloted the submarine to the right and into the darkened foundations of the building. Growling in the water, the serpent's head followed the movement and its fins unfurled and twitched in anticipation, and it began to pursue, winding through the depths after its newfound prey. Simon punched the gas (so to speak) and shot through the darkened recesses of the structure, watching on the sonar screen as the massive shape of the serpent surged into the hollowed-out ruins after him. It was having some difficulty, at first, wriggling into the small space, but unfortunately, it was the very purpose of the snakelike body to be able to handle such a task, and the leviathan quickly began to catch up.

Seeing immediately that the animal was faster than the vehicle, Simon made a split-second decision, banking hard to the right again and deliberately grazing one of the building's few remaining load-bearing columns. The worn stone shattered even as metal was sheared away from the sub, Simon internally hoping beyond all that the craft would hold together and not be breached completely. The sea serpent turned to follow Simon, but not sharply enough, inadvertently aiding him by demolishing several more pillars with its body. The underwater ruin began to collapse, slowly folding in on itself in great plumes of dust.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

A throbbing pain in the side of your head is never the most pleasant first thing to notice as you drift back from the smothering depths of unconsciousness. To be sure, it rubbed Simon the wrong way to wake up like that, opening his eyes to find himself lying on the cold, uncomfortable metal floor of the submarine, and even worse still in his diving suit and helmet, the helmet so large that his shoulders were slightly off the ground, causing his head to hang freely; in addition to the bump on his head, he quickly noticed that this had left an unpleasant crick in his neck.

Simon tried to sit up, only to hiss in sudden pain as he moved his neck. The crick was bad, and seemed to flare up everytime he turned his head. Slowly and gently, he titled it into looking forward, gritting his teeth against the sensation and deciding to keep his neck that way to avoid any further discomfort. In hindsight, he now wished he hadn't been wearing the helmet; he could have fallen normally, and his neck would be fine. _Though I suppose my head would be worse_ _off_ , he mused. Finally getting to his feet, he tried to look around the sub, hissed in pain again, and then looked around by turning his entire body instead. There wasn't any water inside, which was good, but now that he was focusing outside of the pain, he did note that the vehicle was swaying oddly.

He went to a porthole and looked out. He could see the rubble from the building, so the sub hadn't gone far after he had been knocked out in the collapse. In fact, it didn't seem to be drifting at all; it took Simon a moment to realize that the submersible was in fact resting on the seafloor, titling gently back and forth in the natural sway of the ocean. "Hm. Strange." He looked at the console. "Oh, nuts!" In the crash, the walkie-talkie had fallen from its cradle and smashed open on the floor. "Well, at least that wasn't my skull." He sat down at the console, being careful to go easy on his neck, and tried to work the controls. The machinery hummed with life, but the submarine did not move.

"Huh." Simon said to himself. "Well." He tried to pilot again. Still nothing. "Huh. That's... Huh. Well, I'm sure it'll start working in a moment, otherwise I'd have to go outside and check the damage. And that's... yeah, no."

He tried again, to no avail. "You know what? It'll work on the next try. You'll work on the next try. Four is my lucky number, let's go." Once again, nothing. "Mm-hm. Welp. If you don't work, I'm going to have to go outside. And you know, I really, really, really, really don't want to do that, so let's ditch the stage fright and shake a tail feather, alrighty?"

His fifth attempt yielded no results. "I hate you so much. I hate you. You are the worst submarine in the entire history of submarines."

He sighed and bowed his head, before wincing and snapping back up. He was going to have to go outside. Into the oceans of Ooo. Where there were giant sea monsters. "Why me?" he asked, reaching up to straighten his glasses only to find his hand blocked by the helmet. Moving to the ladder, he climbed up into what passed for the airlock; this sub was too small to have a proper one, so it was merely a crawlspace in between the two hatches. Crawling inside, Simon checked his suit to ensure it wasn't damaged, sealed the inner hatch, and set the airlock to do its thing.

A short time later, the outer hatch opened and the diving-suit-clad Simon emerged, stepping out onto the top of the submarine and then stepping off, drifting gently to the sand, which kicked up in slow, watery plumes as his feet landed. He was in an open space - once a parking lot, perhaps - between two buildings, including the one he had just destroyed, the remains of which lay some eighty feet away. He didn't want to be out here any longer than he had to, both in terms of his newfound respect for the ocean as a source of danger and his oxygen supply, so he started moving immediately, going in a circle around the sub to check the damage. He did his best to focus on this task and ignore the vast, crushing darkness of the sea around him, worried that he would have a panic attack if he let himself actually think about the situation he was in.

The good news was that he identified the problem quickly, giving him something else to think about. The bad news was that the main propeller was essentially destroyed. It looked like while the hull had not been breached by Simon's reckless assault on the support structure of the building, the propeller had been hit by falling debris, and was now essentially mangled scrap metal hanging off the back of the watercraft. "This seems problematic," Simon said, stepping up and reaching out to grab the propeller with both suited hands. With a few hard pulls, he was able to tear the destroyed thing from its cradle and examine the area more closely; it actually wasn't too badly damaged inside, and he felt confident he could get the vehicle working again if he could find a replacement propeller. The question was whether that was possible.

Simon turned about face and looked around the city. Many people he had met across Ooo had spoken of scavengers that raided ancient dungeons and labyrinths for supplies and treasures, turning over ruins and looting catacombs. Such a practice seemed to be considered common, and even honorable. And he was certain that he had heard, at least once or twice, of such dungeon-raiders exploring the ocean depths for their fortunes. It was a possibility - if only a vague one - that he could find something abandoned down here, another watercraft that could have what he needed. And as it was his only option, Simon felt he had no choice but to put all of his chips on that chance. He started walking.

He rounded the corner of the demolished building to a surprising sight, which halted him in his tracks: the back half of the sea serpent, sticking out from the rubble with its front half still buried underneath. The creature's tail fin was twitching, and it's small hind legs stirred, pawing slightly at the sand. If Simon had to guess, he would assume it had been knocked out in the collapse, same as him, and that it was now beginning to slowly regain consciousness. He could hope that the creature would die of it's injuries or "suffocate" due to a lack of new water being allowed to reach it's gills, but he knew it was just as likely that the monster would manage to wriggle free and continue its hunt. He had to search quickly.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Simon made quick work moving through some of the surrounding structures, knowing that what he was looking for was too large to hide and didn't require a very detailed search. While looking for other submarines or parts, he was sure to keep an eye out for any further clues to the mystery that had brought him here, such as artifacts from the world he had left behind. Unfortunately, most of what was here was simply too damaged or worn to be identified, such as a lamp that was so rusted he genuinely couldn't tell if it was of 20th century human design.

His keenness to wrap the search up quickly was egged on numerous times by the distant sound of the rubble shifting as the sea serpent insistently tried to struggle free. With the monster always lingering on the edge of his mind, Simon was under constant reminders of the fact that he couldn't afford to slow down. And so, he briskly continued with his mission, making runs through one washed-out building after another, always on the lookout for anything that could help with his current deplorable situation.

The eighth building he checked at last seemed promising: in the otherwise empty remains of the structure's parking garage, there was a large hole in the floor, seemingly made by a cave-in of some kind. The gap was about twenty feet wide, and went straight down into darkness, but most interesting, the scuff marks on the edge of the opening matched up, in theory, with the hull of a small submarine not unlike Simon's. As it was the most promising lead he had (and he was keen to find cover in case his aquatic foe became free again), he stepped forward and allowed himself to drift gently down into the darkened opening.

His feet hit ground some forty feet down, and he reached up to toggle a small light atop his helmet, illuminating the area. To his right, it extended into a tunnel, barely thirty feet wide, that went away into darkness... although, as Simon focused, and turned his light back off to be sure, he thought he could see another source of light far at the end. He toggled his helmet-lamp back on and moved down the tunnel, wondering what he would find at the end. It was slow going, but he eventually plodded to the end of the passage and discovered that the water had come to an end: the passage tilted uphill and promptly hit the _surface of the water,_ beyond which was an orange glow. Simon knew for a fact that he was still far too deep below the ocean to have _actually_ reached the surface, so he could only conclude that he had reached an area where the pressure of the water was forcing the air to stay enclosed; the same principle as a diving bell.

Pushing forward, he emerged from the water into a sealed-off cavern, removing his helmet and looking around. The chamber was not large, but seemed big enough to live in comfortably for some time, which he gathered someone had been doing. A two-headed skeleton sat in the cavern, hunched against the far wall. Scattered around the room were various signs of long-term habitation: a sleeping bag, jugs of water, means of entertainment such as a television, VCR and books, and many, many empty cans of food, though no unopened ones, giving Simon a hint as to exactly how the two-headed individual expired in the end. He also gathered that the two heads tended to argue frequently, as a final message was carved into the opposite wall just above the skeleton: I NEVER THOUGHT I COULD HATE MY OWN SELF THIS LUMPING MUCH.

Power was provided by a strange, floating, off-white orb in the center of the room; Simon assumed that it was some type of high-tech or mystical generator, as a number of cords were plugged into it, leading to the lights, a microwave, and the TV. Finally, sitting in the shallows from which Simon had emerged was a mini-sub, not unlike his own, but the main window was shattered, making it impossible to pilot to freedom. Simon didn't know how the glass had broken, but it had sealed the fate of the unfortunate gemini-headed explored who had owned it: he had sat down here, reading books, watching old movies and arguing with himself until he ran out of food.

The silver lining to this poignant discovery was that Simon could see that the submarine's propeller was quite intact, and looked easy to remove. But before he could get to work on that, something nagged at Simon's mind. He felt the strangest curiosity... morbid, perhaps, but compelling. He walked over to the area where the TV and VCR were located, on a simple table in front of a cozy-looking green rug on the stone floor, which Simon thought really tied the room together. He looked around for the remote, found it, and turned the television and video device on. Something was paused, so he pressed play, and a familiar sight appeared on the screen that made his heart jump with unexpected nostalgia: a wooden sign reading "Cheers (est. 1895)", and a narrator's voice explaining, " _Cheers_ is filmed in front of a live studio audience."

Simon's mouth fell open. It was _Cheers._ His favorite sitcom. He had never managed to get Betty into it - she preferred to watch _Dallas_ when it was her turn with the TV. But he loved it to death. Over the course of its eleven seasons, he had fallen hopelessly in love with its characters, story, and titular setting. The show played, and at the sight of Dr. Frasier Crane, played by Kellsey Grammar, walking in through the front door, Simon instantly recognized the first episode of season six, which he had committed to memory. He stared, stunned, at the wide shot of the bar, where Woody was watering one of the suspended ferns, wearing a silly green uniform.

"Hi, Dr. Crane!" Woody announced cheerily, and Simon said it along with him. He knew every line of this episode by heart.

"Hello, Woody, set me up, will you?" Frasier and Simon asked in unison.

"Comin' right up." Woody and Simon replied.

Frasier stepped up to the bar and watched Woody work, before saying (Simon saying it along with him), "You know, no matter how many times I come in here, I can't get over how silly you look in that ridiculous outfit." A laugh track played.

"Really?" Woody and Simon asked. "I kinda like it. People treat me with a little more respect. And there's another bonus," they both continued as Woody passed Frasier his beer, "saves me that couple extra hours I used to spend every morning, picking out a shirt.

Frasier looked incredulous, while the laugh track roared. "Yes, that can be very time-consuming. Whatever happened to the good old days? Everything was better. Sam still owned the Bar, he wasn't out circumnavigating the globe. Yonder sat Diane with a book. Norm and Cliff were permanent faces in this place, god how I miss those hail fellows well met."

The laugh track chuckled at Frasier's use of the somewhat archaic English expression, while Woody gave him a strange look. "Where had it gone, Woody?" Simon asked along with Frasier, before the overdramatic psychiatrist began to cry into his hand, earning a pink napkin from Woody and another round of giggles from the laugh track.

"Come on, Dr. Crane, it'll be alright!" Woody and Simon insisted.

"Will it? Oh death and life, the days that are no more..."

 _Oh death and life, the days that are no more..._

Those words rang in Simon's mind like the tolling of a bell, pointing out clearly to him what this tape meant. He fell within his own mind, missing a comedy bit about Woody and Frasier sharing a misunderstanding over Frasier's reference. It fell short of Simon's thoughts, which were possessed by a much larger revelation. His theory, his worst, _dreaded_ theory, was correct. His world was gone. It had been destroyed, centuries earlier, which led to a single, viscerally wounding truth.

Betty Grof, Simon's fiancé and the most important person in his life, had been dead for approximately one thousand years.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a familiar piano tune, followed by the lyrics:

 _"Making your way in the world today,_

 _takes everything you've got!"_

Simon shook his head. The revelation still lacked a certain reality; he could push it down, ignore it. For as long as he had to. For now, he needed a propeller.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Time was a precious commodity, so Simon wasted none of it removing the propeller from the two-headed skeleton's sub, heading back down into the underwater tunnel, and hustling back through into the city. Carrying the propeller under one arm, he snaked his way through the sand-covered streets to check in on the monster: it had made progress in freeing itself, now with over three-quarters of it's body free and it's tail thrashing about in the water as it continued to struggle. Grinding his teeth nervously, Simon made his way back to his watercraft and applied the new propeller as quickly as he could.

With that task done (and not at all helped by the frequent rumblings caused by the sea serpent's ongoing battle with the rubble pile), he clambered back aboard the sub and crouched in the tiny airlock, beginning the slow process of draining the lock and becoming ready to reenter the craft. It seemed to take an agonizing amount of time even compared to the previous go, and it was intercut with more of the monster's thrashing. Once he was finally back inside, Simon wasted as little time as possible, first shedding his nearly-depleted suit so as to use the sub's oxygen supply instead, and then making his way to the controls and rapidly activating the engine again.

With that done, he began to pilot the submarine off of the seafloor, finally ready to head back to safety, though this triumph was short lived. He felt a final thundering rumble and stopped his ascent, only a couple meters off the sand, as a huge plume of dust burst from the rubble... and far down the street before him, the liberated sea serpent swam into view, before continuing to Simon's left. It vanished from sight a bit at a time, gliding around the corner until only its tail fin gave a final push and disappeared. Simon knew that the serpent's freedom meant that his time was limited, so, after waiting long enough to assume that he at least _could_ be outside the beast's sensory range, he turned the submersible around and began to pilot out of the city.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

He hadn't made it far from the buildings before he noted something large on the sonar screen, gaining on him fast from behind. He didn't have to be a genius to conclude that the sea serpent was pursuing him. Worse, even with the submarine at top speed, the beast was still closing the distance; wiping away some sweat, he did some quick math and determined that he wouldn't reach the shore for another forty minutes at least, but the serpent would most likely catch him within five. "I shouldn't have come down here..." he said quietly to himself. That was a certain truth in his mind. What he was less certain of was whether his regret had to do with the monster about to kill him... or the horrible truth he had learned.

He shook his head and took a deep breath, steeling himself as best he could. "Alright, come on, Simon, think, think think think... you can get out of this, you can figure this out... do or die time, so let's take 'do' as a solid Plan A, and maybe pencil 'die' in for, oh, Plan L or somesuch, yeah? Come on, what do we have?" He straightened his glasses, properly this time, and looked around the sub. "Well, I have this submarine. Doesn't help me. I can't make it go any faster. Can I?" He thought for a moment. "...Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnno. I can't. Okay, what else... Diving suit? Out of air. Eh... walkie talkie? Broken. Parts from the walkie talkie? No time to build them into anything. Hm."

He looked at the sonar screen again, where the serpent was now more clearly defined as a long, thin shape. "What about you, my carnivorous friend? You're very scary. What can I do with you? You look like a reptile or fish, but you don't move like one, you swim by moving your spine up and down like a mammal. Does that help me? No, it does not. What else, COME ON! Diet? Nope. Senses? Hm... nearly blind, seems to sense things by feeling the w... the water... nearly blind... pale... adapted to the deep? Not _that_ deep, surely, but... definitely a bottom-feeder... almost blind, _almost_ blind... it can see in low-light, the low-light of the seafloor, sooooooo... sensitive to light? YES!"

He clapped his hands and poined triumphantly at the screen. "I found your weakness, you big old beast! You are sensitive to light maybe-probably-or-maybe-not-because-I'm-not-a-marine-biologist-but-I-have-nothing-to-lose-so-I'm-going-to-run-with-it-anyway! CHECKMATE MAYBE!"

Seizing the controls once more, he directed the watercraft to begin rising straight up, towards the distant glimmer of the ocean's surface. It worked, though the new propeller handled the shift in balance strangely: while the submarine was rising, it bucked so that, oddly, the tail was angled upward and going first, while the main window, Simon nestled behind it, was looking down into the gloom... where the ghostlike form of the sea monster contorted, swimming up after the metal morsel.

"AH! NO!" Simon shrieked as the sudden change in momentum pushed him against the screen, face to face with the rising serpent as it pursued, opening its massive jaws wide. It closed in on the ascending submarine, uncoiling it's two tongues from each other, which themselves began to reach for the sub like predatory tentacles. It was less than twenty feet short now, ready to swallow the submarine whole perhaps, or simply tear it apart, but too little, too late, as predator and prey began to pass into lighter territory. The reflection of the sun glinted in the serpent's eyes, and it hesitated, coiling to a sudden stop and snarling, clouds of bubbles bursting from the jaws. As the submarine continued to climb, Simon watched in almost numb relief as his underwater nemesis turned tail and swam back into the pitch-colored depths.

"I really hope I never see you again." Simon said in 100% sincerity as the serpent faded from few. Mere seconds later, the craft finally reached the surface, bobbing back into a level position that caused Simon to fall back from the window and onto the floor. He closed his eyes and collected his breath for a moment, just lying on the metal floor and taking time to appreciate that he had _somehow_ survived. With his head on straight again, he got to his feet and went to the hatch.

After taking the needed time for depressurization, he opened it, poking his head out. The sun was still up, and it was still a beautiful, mostly cloudless day. He looked to his right and saw a seagull sitting on the hull, staring at him.

"Sup, dude?" the seagull asked.

"Oh, hi. Um... can you point me to Ooo?"

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo62

Declan sat on the sandy beach of Iceberg Lake, looking out over the chilled water until the sun was beginning to droop lazily towards the horizon, when he finally saw the submarine approaching, driving along the surface. Getting up, the dog waited eagerly as the sub came to a slow stop into the shallows, the hatch opened, and Simon climbed out onto the top. He watched as the human walked quietly along, reached the edge and held out one foot as though getting ready to hop down... only to hesitate and look down at the water uncertainly. He stood there for a moment in silence, going pale as he stared at the shallows.

"What... are you doing?" Declan asked. Simon looked up at him, surprised.

"What? Nothing, I'm fine." He looked back down at the water, took a breath, and hopped down to splash into the surf, only to quickly scramble out onto the shore. Declan watched while he shook water off his pant legs.

"So..." the dog asked slowly, getting the strange feeling he might not get a clear answer. "What happened?"

Simon looked at him again, snapped out of his thoughts. "Oh... how much did you hear over the walkie?"

"I could still hear you after you couldn't hear me. I heard all the way up to something about a big monster, and then you said you were coming back, and there was a loud noise, and then nothing."

"Yeah, the uh..." Simon's voice was shaking a little. "Ahem... the uh, walkie-talkie broke. Mine, I mean. But I got away from the monster and came back."

Simon's odd behavior was making Declan feel extremely nervous. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Just... rattled."

"So... what did you find out?"

Simon stared at Declan for a moment, and then took off his glasses and started cleaning them on his sleeve.

"Nothing of significance."


	9. Chapter 9 - The Rebel

AT: Hello, everyone, and deepest apologies for the long absence; it was caused by factors beyond my control. I will do my best not to be gone for so long again. To make up for it, not only is Chapter 9 here, but you'll be getting Chapter 10 by the end of the day.

Declan moved lightly through the darkened cavern, passing by racks and racks of clothing. He noted that the clothing smelled nice, though in the state he was in, it didn't occur to him to notice how repetitive the selection was: endless shelves of blue jeans and dark green sweaters, the odd labcoat strewn about. There was an occasional rack of glasses, and all the options were the same: thin, wire-frame specs with pointed lenses. But Declan didn't notice; he had to follow the scent of Simon. He had to find him... he wasn't sure why, but it was very important he get Simon to tell him something.

Declan drifted into the open space in the center of the cavern, free of the endless forest of green turtlenecks and navy jeans, and found his companion lying on a glass floor. At least, it smelled like Simon, that was how he could tell. But it didn't look like Simon. The great yellowish beast was curled up on the glass, not seeing him. Declan looked down through the floor; there was water underneath, and a great drowned city. It looked like the entire ocean was being held under the glass floor of this dark cave, and slithering through it was a huge, white snake with six eyes and jagged teeth. Declan tried to ignore the snake, turning his attention back to Simon. "Hey! Hey, wake up! You're supposed to tell me!"

The lion woke up, and got to its feet, looking at Declan. "Do you get the pun?" Simon the lion asked.  
"Huh? What pun?"  
"You don't get it yet. That's okay."  
"I guess I don't."  
"Hey, you need to go see Princess Bubblegum."

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

"Huh?"  
"I said we need to go see Bubblegum, come on, wake up."  
Declan blinked sleepily and looked around the bedroom of the Tree Fort, where he had been sleeping on the rug. Simon was a few feet away, just finishing getting dressed as he slipped his sweatshirt on.  
"What were you dreaming about?" the human asked while the dog yawned. "You said something about puns."  
"Oh... nothing. It was a weird dream, it didn't really make sense."  
"They never do. Few nights ago I had a dream where I was fighting the Ice Prince and Rolly on top of the walls of the Candy Kingdom, and there was this yellow owl telling me-"  
"Man, I don't care, it's too early for this. Why are we going to see Bubblegum?"

"She sent a messenger. It's time to uphold our side of the trade. I guess she's sending us to some kind of diplomatic thing."  
"Why us?"  
"Not sure, actually. I assume she's going to explain more when we're there." Simon looked at his flamethrower. "We're probably not going to need that, right?"  
"Well... for the trip there, we might."  
"Oh... right, right. Okay." He took the weapon and equipped it; Neptr had been kind enough to repair the strap.

As they finished their preparations and headed out the door, Declan managed to muster enough interest to ask for more details. "So where are we going, exactly?"  
"The Palace of Nuts. It's not far from the Candy Kingdom, just Northeast."  
"'Palace of Nuts?' Every time I think Ooo can't take itself any less seriously..."  
"Don't be a five-year-old."  
"I _am_ a five-year-old."  
"In addition to sapient candy and the like, there appears to be a subrace of sapient... nut people. I've seen a couple. I've gathered that they and the Candy Kingdom don't always get along, but I don't know more than that."  
"Nuts, though... that's such a random connection."  
"Not really. Nuts are fruit, and one of the first candy people I met was a strawberry dipped in chocolate. There's precedent."

The trip wasn't too long, as the Palace wasn't far from the Candy Kingdom. In the heart of the forested Duchy of Nuts, the Palace itself was a white structure with a dark brown roof, the walls spotted with other colors in places. The structure wasn't really the size of a true palace; more like a large house, and had an off-center architecture, an inordinately large number of towers and a red front door shaped, unsurprisingly, like a nut. It was surrounded by a low white wall and a misshapen, earthy moat, neither of which looked like particularly potent defenses.

"I expected something a bit more grand," Simon said quietly, looking around. He noted that some of the surrounding trees seemed to be growing out of large shells in the ground. "Oh, look, there's Bubblegum."  
The Princess had leaned out from behind a tree some twenty meters away, waving to them. She quickly ducked back behind the tree, causing Simon and Declan to exchange puzzled looks before heading over. Nearby, they could see other groups arriving in the distance, mostly by carriages.

They found Bubblegum standing behind a cluster of trees, looking out keenly at the new arrivals. "Hey, guys, thanks for coming."  
Simon didn't say anything, but waited for her to continue. She looked at his attire. "Simon, you're not wearing that bowtie you usually wear."  
"Oh, no, there hasn't been much call for it."  
"Do you have it on you?"  
"Yes, I-"  
"Put it on. I need you looking presentable. You two will be attending a diplomatic luncheon as my representatives, and you need to look your best."  
"But... I'm wearing a sweat-"  
"Please, just do as I ask."

Simon shrugged and pulled the tie from one of his pockets. He examined it and looked down at his own sweatshirt, before trying to awkwardly tie it around his neck. Impatiently, the Princess reached out and began tying it for him.  
"I can tie my own-"  
"Shh, listen up. This event is being thrown by the Duke of Nuts." There was a sudden venom in her voice. "The Duchy has always been loyal to the Candy Kingdom, but recently I have begun to suspect he harbors treacherous intent." She stepped back, finished with the tie. "He's invited a number of Ooo royals, and I believe he intends to sway them against me. By not attending myself, I'm hoping to lower his guard. I need you two to snoop around whenever you can, and see what you can learn about the Duke's plans. Can you do that?"

When Simon didn't respond, merely fiddling with the tie, Declan answered instead. "We'll... do our best."  
"Thanks guys. Good luck!" She whirled around and hurried away, looking around as if to make sure no one could see her leaving.

Simon stared blankly at the palace. He looked uninterested.  
"Um... do you think we should have asked for more information?" Declan asked.  
"No. Let's just get this over with." Simon headed for the palace, and Declan hesitantly followed. They could see a multitude of guests arriving; being of all different shapes and sizes, from all over Ooo. There was a floating, crowned, transparent girl with long hair, a greenish-gray man with pointed shoes, an arrow-like wand and a crown made of leaves, what appeared to be a living hot dog with a small crown, and others. Among the most noticeable were a thirty-foot tall gray man, excessively muscular with a magenta suit with poofed-out shoulders, and what appeared to be a huge flying skeleton with a kabuki mask for a face, and long black hair that extended out into "arms" ending with bony hands. She seemed to fly through the air by using her hair-arms as wings.

"Strange," said Simon, with somewhat less than his usual enthusiasm. He watched the skeletal creature with mild interest as she flew to the palace; a few others around seemed to be watching her nervously, which comforted Declan; he was glad he wasn't the only one to find her frightening. Simon walked in, following behind an elderly woman with a purple dress, lilac hair and golden crown, and Declan followed. They, along with all the other guests, were shown in by several stout, mean-looking walnut guards who seemed to be wielding saps. Guests who were too large for the front doors, such as the skeletal monster and the thirty-foot man, were led around back.

The entrance hall was a warmly lit, red-brown interior, the walls crusted with shells from various nuts. A large fireplace dominated the hall, and a significant amount of comfortable-looking furniture was organized about, mostly armchairs and couches. Along the doors leading out of the room, there was a flight of stairs leading upward. Simon and Declan were caught slightly off-guard by the informality of it all; they had expected an orderly dining room with one large table, but this was more like a kind of lounge where anyone could sit anywhere. They looked at each other and shrugged before picking seats: Simon a simple armchair, Declan a thick rug in front of the fireplace. Other guests found places for themselves as well, and began to exchange mild conversation.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

The evening passed with little of true interest. Guests ate and mingled. It became apparent that the enormous skeletal creature was known as the "Mermaid Queen", that her real name was "Gary," and that she apparently ruled over something known as the River of Junk. The first two things were much harder for Declan to wrap his head around than the third. Listening in on a conversation between the Crab Princess and the being with the leaf crown and wand (apparently named Xergiok), he learned that Gary had apparently once been considered little more than a mildly dangerous nuisance, but had gained more legitimacy after she had given refuge to a number of refugees from the "Slime Kingdom."

In fact, through listening to more conversations, he was learning that these shifting power dynamics were very common in Ooo, due to a shortage in royalty. The enormous man in the suit (named Prince Huge), and a kind of creepy green worm that kept insisting that people hug him (named the King Worm) had also been elevated after other people of importance had apparently been killed. In particular, many of them seemed to be discussing the death of a figure known as the Flame King, who had been assassinated about eight months earlier.

Declan wasn't sure why so many royals were necessary to keep Ooo running when they mostly seemed to rule a lot of nothing, but then he wasn't really sure of anything here.

And then of course, was the Duke of Nuts himself.

A walking walnut with a fancy outfit with a red cape and puffy purple breeches, the Duke had a high-pitched, simpering voice, and made his way among the guests throughout the event, talking and chatting. Eventually, he approached Simon and Declan. "Hello, gentlemen! You are Princess Bubblegum's representatives, yes?"  
Simon, who had been staring at the wall with a glazed-over expression, simply nodded.  
"Good, good," said the Duke, maintaining his polite tone. Declan, however, immediately picked up on the walnut's suspicion, getting the impression that he wasn't sure what to make of them yet.

The dog took it upon himself to elaborate. "I'm Declan. Me and my companion are actually pretty neutral the Candy Kingdom; Bubblegum was indisposed."  
"When you say the two of you are _neutral...?_ " the Duke asked, intrigued.  
"I... guess we're like privateers she hires sometimes."  
"I see. Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of the party! Please let me, or one of my staff know if you need anything!"  
"Yeah, thanks."

The Duke moved on, and Declan looked back at Simon, who was now dispassionately nibbling on a biscuit. His behavior was beginning to worry the dog. Since returning from the ocean, he had been distant, and Declan couldn't decide if he wanted to know why or to simply let it be and allow the man to work through it on his own. Ordinarily, he wouldn't care if Simon was in a bad mood, so long as he wasn't annoying about it. But Declan couldn't shake the feeling that this was something more important.

Before he could decide whether to bring it up or not, another guest approached. A being made up of dark volcanic stone and orange fire, with flames making up his entire head and a ruby set into his chest armor, he had a stern expression on his burning face. "Greetings," he said. He had a taught, militaristic bearing. "My name is Flint, and I'm here to try and gather military support to reclaim my home."  
Declan and Simon exchanged a look. "Your home?" Simon asked.  
"The Fire Kingdom. It's currently occupied, and survivors of the royal family, like me, have been building a rebellion to try and take it back. What land do you represent?"  
"The Candy Kingdom," said Declan.

Flint scowled angrily. "I see. Then I suppose I should know better then to seek help here." He quickly left.  
"Huh. That was weird," said Declan, though Simon didn't answer.

"So... do you think we should go snoop around?" Declan finally asked a few minutes later.  
"I suppose we should." Looking around to make sure all the guests were otherwise engaged, Simon stood and slipped away, Declan trotting after him. It wasn't difficult for the two to exit the room unnoticed; they were nearly noticed by a princess who was also a raspberry, but managed to slip behind the King Worm to escape her gaze. After that, the two had made their way into a side corridor. They began working their way through the palace, searching.

Upon rounding one corner, they unexpectedly came face-to-face with someone; another nut person, her head a huge pistachio with peanuts for ears, and huge green eyes. She was wearing a fine, frilly brown dress and holding a bowl of ordinary nuts.  
"Oh!" Yelled Declan, startled.  
"Oh I'm sorry," said Simon. "Err... we didn't see you there..."  
"That's quite alright, dears..." she said in a slow, matronly voice, smiling. "I already knew you were on your way..." she shook the bowl she was holding, causing the nuts to rattle around inside. "The NUTS told me! My beautiful babies..."  
Simon and Declan exchanged concerned looks. "Like... literally?" asked Declan.

She gave the two of them a fixed look. "You search. I know. You are looking... the nuts tell me that what you seek is _there."_ She pointed at a section of the wall. Simon and Declan looked over at it, and noted that it seemed to be a slightly different color than the rest of the wall.  
"What are you-" Declan began, before she interrupted.  
"You don't believe me!?" she held the bowl out to them. "Here, listen for yourself! Would you like to hear what, MY NUTS HAVE TO SAY!?"  
They both backed away in surprise at the offer. "Erm... no thank you," said Simon.  
"Yeah, we're just going to keep... searching," said Declan.  
"Very well!" said the nut woman, stalking off while cooing lovingly to her nuts.

They watched her leave, while Simon went over to the stretch of wall she had indicated. "Huh... she was weird," said Declan. Simon didn't answer, running his hands over the cobbled wall. Declan looked around while he searched, before continuing. "You think she was crazy or something?"  
"Huh?" Simon didn't look over. "Oh, yeah. Sure. Here we go..." He pushed on the wall with both hands, and it slid inward with a grinding sound. "Voila. Secret door." Fearing the sound it had made could be overheard, Declan moved in quickly, slipping past Simon and into the darkened stairwell beyond. It was a spiral staircase, only lit by candles. The dog took a quick sniff, determined that the route was safe, and hurried down, Simon following behind.

They worked their way down through the gloom. Ordinarily, a sense of imminent dread and curiosity may have overtaken them; eagerness to discover what the Duke of Nuts was hiding. But Declan was mostly preoccupied wondering what was wrong with his travelling companion, while the thoughts of Simon himself appeared to be miles away.

They emerged into a tunnel lit with only crude, cheap-looking lanterns, and earthen walls. Up ahead, the tunnel seemed to open into a larger chamber, where they could hear the sounds of people talking. The two approached slowly and quietly, Simon dropping into a crouch to appear less noticeable. Once they had reached where the room began to curve out into the larger space, they could see the source of the voices: a dozen or so of the Duke's guards, plus a few other military-looking types who weren't nut people. These ones, Simon and Declan both thought, were probably mercenaries hired from other parts of Ooo. The room itself stored a large number of weapons, with racks of swords, spears and axes on the walls. A large space was set aside for training; two of the nut guards were sparring as they watched.

Tables with maps and plans on them were spread out, a few of the soldiers pouring over them. _"Okay, here we go..."_ said Simon. _"The palace has next to no outward military presence, but it seems the Duke is building an army in secret."_  
 _"Hey, check it out!"_ Declan point a paw across the corridor, to a door on the other side. They quickly slipped over to it, hoping to go unnoticed by the soldiers. Going through and beyond, they found more of the same: several more of the secret rooms, a few more soldiers, lots more weapons. Once they had a decent idea of the operation's size, they retreated back to the start of the secret area, at the base of the stairs.

"Alright, well, I think we know what we need to," said Simon.  
"Do we? We don't actually know that it's Bubblegum they're planning to attack."  
Simon sighed. "Well, if we're-"  
"Shh!" Declan said suddenly. "Someone's coming!"  
After a moment, Simon could hear footsteps coming down the stairs.  
"This way!" Declan said, and the two headed down the passage towards the secret rooms... only to see the Duke's soldiers heading up the passage towards them.  
"Uh-oh..." said Simon as the soldiers spotted them.

The soldiers were momentarily caught off guard, but quickly reached for their weapons. Simon raised the flamethrower, while Declan turned to look at the stairs again, where the Duke of Nuts had just emerged. The Duke, naturally, looked shocked at the sight of his men facing off with Simon and Declan. He recovered quickly however, and raised his hands. "Wait! Stop! Men, do not attack! Simon, Declan, stand down, please! This isn't necessary!"  
There was a moment of tense hesitation before the guards lowered their swords and maces, followed by Simon doing the same with the flamethrower. The Duke sighed in relief, lowering his arms. "Thank you. Now, I believe we need to talk. Stand down, men. As you were."

With some hesitation, the soldiers returned to their duties, while the Duke approached Simon and Declan. "Are you going to tell us what's going on down here?" asked Declan.  
"Yes," said the Duke. "Please, let's sit."  
He led them to a table, where he and Simon each took chairs while Declan simply sat next to the table on his haunches. "Now," asked the Duke of Nuts, "please tell me: what does it _look_ like I'm doing here?"  
Simon answered. "It looks a bit like you're building an army to go to war with someone."  
"Yes, I'm afraid that is the case..." the Duke said sadly, wringing his hands. "You must understand, I'm not a violent man by nature! I pet dogs, kiss babies, I teach underprivileged nuts how to dance! But... as of late, I feel I have been pushed to a situation where I have no choice but to... rebel!"

"You're rebelling?" asked Declan. "Against who, Bubblegum?"  
"It's a bit of a long story, I'm afraid..." said the Duke. "You see, I have a... pudding deficiency..." he said this in a tone of extreme, simpering shame. "I used to be good friends with the Candy Kingdom, and sometimes I would..." he gritted his teeth, as if the next part would be difficult to admit. Looking up to make sure none of his soldiers were in earshot, he dropped into a low whisper. Simon had to lean in to hear him. _"I would sneak into the Castle and steal Princess Bubblegum's pudding!"_  
"Okaaaayyyyyyyy..." said Declan, confused. "So... this is about pudding?"

"What? No! Of course it isn't about pudding! It's about what I saw while I was in there! The prisons! The guards, those Rattleballs, the things they were training for! The Princess is a tyrant! I decided she needed to be stopped!"  
"So you _are_ rebelling against the Princess?" Simon asked.  
"Yes! Because it needed to be done!" his face looked set and angry. "And you two can help me! You owe her no loyalty, you said so yourself, you're just privateers! And heroes! You were able to claim the Hero's Enchiridion! You can help me gather information, free my people from-"  
"I'm going to stop you right there." said Simon unexpectedly. "Look, you're right that we don't owe the Candy Kingdom any real loyalty... but I'm afraid that this isn't our fight. We aren't heroes, we're just trying to fulfill our own goals, and get back what we've lost. Princess Bubblegum may not be on our "side", but she's been a useful source of information and resources."

He stood up. "Look, I'm very sorry that you feel your people are threatened. And I can't pretend to know if that's true or not, but either way, I wish you the best. But we aren't the right people to ask for help."  
"I see..." said the Duke sadly. "Well, I understand completely. I hope that-" He was cut off by a loud crash from upstairs. "Ah! What was that!?"  
Another nut came running down the stairs; this one was small and childlike, a small, round peanut in a shell that was too large for him, wearing a red cape and bowl haircut. "Father!" The little nut yelled, sounding on the verge of tears, "it's the candy! They're here!"

"Oh no!" said the Duke. "We aren't ready yet, not even close... men, begin evacuating as many people as possible to the escape tunnels! Begin with my son!"  
As one of the soldiers took the smaller nut, he began to cry and protest. "No! Father, please! I need to stay and help!"  
As this exchange was happening, Simon and Declan leaned close to speak to each other.  
"What's Bubblegum attacking for? Didn't she send us in here to gather information?" Declan asked.  
"Not sure, but we should get out of here."  
As the Duke went to his son and comforted him, Simon and Declan quickly slipped out of the room, heading back up the stairs. They hurried up and back out the secret door, where they found the palace in pandemonium.

A princess made of breakfast foods was running past, before a Rattleball tackled her to the ground. Further up the passage, Xergiok fired a spell at another Rattleball, which deftly dodged the hex. Not staying to watch, Simon and Declan quickly returned to the main hall, where numerous rattlers were fighting the nut guards, as well as the guests. Outside, a loud shrieking sound told them that Gary the Mermaid Queen was holding her own against the attackers. "Come on!" yelled Simon over the chaos, and began to run across the room with his head low, Declan trotting along behind.

A Rattleball was thrown over their heads, smashing against the wall. They only went a few more steps before an axe, thrown by one of the palace guards, flew above their heads in the same fashion, embedding itself in an armchair. Declan spotted Flint and Crab Princess escaping, ducking out a side entrance otherwise unnoticed. Simon had to go around Old Lady Princess, who was doing surprisingly well boxing with a Rattleball. It took her down after a moment, however; one thing that was clear was that little by little, the Rattleballs were winning this fight.

As they finally reached the entrance, they saw Princess Bubblegum entering, followed by Peppermint Butler. "Oh, hey guys!" she said upon seeing them.  
"Princess," Simon asked, "why are you attacking now?"  
"Oh, you two had already scoped me all the information I needed. Thanks for that, by the way."  
"But... how did you know?" Declan asked.  
Smiling, the Princess stepped forward, reached behind Simon's bowtie, and pulled out a tiny, pink circular device with a speaker grille on it. "Wink!" she said, while winking. "Listening device!"  
Declan felt a surge of annoyance at how they had seemingly been used, but Simon shrugged. "Alright, whatever. Come on, Declan, let's go."

In the anarchy behind them, the King Worm had just crawled into the center of the room. "Hey everybody!" he said in a soothing voice, "why don't you all just hug me? _Wowowowowowowowowowowowowowowo..."_ At the strange sound, everyone around him started to be affected in some way; guests, guards and rattlers alike began twitching spasmodically, some of them responding to the psychic command and walking over to hug the king.  
"No!" said Bubblegum angrily, as Simon and Declan turned to leave, "take him down!" Two more Rattleballs entered the room, drawing weapons and leaping at the King Worm. Whatever happened next, Simon and Declan did not see, as they made their way out into the sunlight.

Crossing the drawbridge, they could see Gary wheeling in the sky above, harassed by leaping rattlers. She whipped at one of them with one of her hair-wings, sending it sailing down to the ground to be shattered. They continued walking as they crossed onto the grass. "Hey," asked Declan, "should we have told Bubblegum about what we heard the Duke say about escape tunnels? She might have missed that part."  
"No. That would get us involved in this fight, and would therefore violate our policy of not getting any further involved in this fight."  
"I guess. So what now?"  
"We go home."  
"Works for me."

They kept going, leaving the palace behind.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Halfway back to the Tree Fort, Declan, loping along behind Simon, couldn't stop thinking about the man's behavior. Even now, Simon was staring ahead with an oddly unfocused vibe as he walked, deep in thought. And Declan believed he had started to understand why. "Alright, stop," said the dog, doing so. Distracted, Simon kept walking. "I said STOP!"  
Simon stopped, blinking and looking back at Declan in surprise. "Huh? Oh... sorry, I zoned out for a moment."  
"Yeah, I could tell. Listen, we need to talk about this."  
"About what?"

Declan looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He could see the sun dipping low, and the shadows of the grassland getting long. In the distance, a dark figure that might have been the Mermaid Queen was flying away. "Okay... something's... wrong. I think you've been hiding something from me."  
"What!? No, I haven't!" said Simon, a note of panic in his voice.  
"No, come on! I know you've been lyin' to me!" Declan said back, before suddenly having a realization. He looked down, and spoke softly to himself. "You're... _lion_ to me... so that was the pun..."

Simon stared at Declan for a moment, a lifeless expression on his face. Then, unexpectedly, tears dropped from his eyes. Sighing heavily, he sat down on the grass, holding his brow and looking down. Declan watched this in surprise, not expecting the breakdown. Still, he waited patiently for what Simon was about to say.  
"I... found something on the seafloor. That's what I hid. I told you otherwise, but..."  
"What? What did you find?"  
Simon looked up at Declan.

"Declan... it's all gone."


	10. Chapter 10 - Freak Study

Birds twittered and sang in the forest as Simon and Declan made their way through on a sunny day. Their were scattered clouds against the blue sky, and the forest itself was mostly adorned with yellow leaves. They were passing though a makeshift graveyard full of small tombstones, and a few scattered bones. Both were quiet, passing through the area slowly and lazily. It had been a little over a week since the Duke of Nuts' party, where Simon had shared the truth with Declan about what he had discovered underwater. Since then, the two had gone about their business with little purpose. With nothing better to do, they simply explored Ooo, gathering supplies where they could and focusing on staying alive.

Declan looked at a skull as they passed. Morbidly, he wondered if it was the skull of someone who had died in the nuclear war a thousand years earlier. He almost missed that Simon had suddenly stopped, and stopped with him.  
"What, what is it?" He saw Simon looking ahead, and looked to see something big, shaggy and gray was lying in the shade ahead of them. For a moment, they both thought it could be some kind of beast, until it started to shift; from the way it moved, it was clearly a person under some kind of cloak or blanket. They even had a little pointed hat atop the cloak, somewhat tattered with a little blue tassel.  
"Food?" the figure asked in a scratchy voice, looking out from under the covering with bright eyes. "Food for a beggar? Food for a poor old man?"

Simon unshouldered his pack and reached inside. "I suppose I can spare something..." he said.  
Declan narrowed his eyes at the figure. Something seemed oddly familiar about him. Declan sniffed; he had definitely smelled the man before, but he couldn't place where.  
"Here you are, sir." said Simon, removing a green apple and approaching the man to offer it. The beggar snatched it and pulled it under his covering, beginning to devour it rapidly.  
"Hey, man..." said Declan.  
"Declan, really," replied Simon, "it's been half a year, _when_ are you going to start calling me by my n-"  
"Listen! Something's wrong here, I'm not sure about this guy..."

The apple's core was ejected onto the forest floor. "You know..." said the man, "I'm not _really_ a beggar... I'm actually a..." it was then that he threw off the cloak dramatically, and Simon and Declan's perception of someone had never changed so fast. "MAGIC MAAAAAAANNNNNNNNN!"  
The Magic Man had bluish-green skin; his clothes were ragged, but very vivid yellow. He had mismatching boots; one bright red and the other purple, and he carried supplies in a backpack and small bag on his leg. His body language was dazzlingly energetic, as he waved his hands with a hop and a smile, throwing sparkling little bursts of light around like fireworks.

"Yes!" yelled Declan suddenly as it came back to him. "I remember this guy! Ah, crap, we need to get out of here! I'm not kidding, he's bad news, seriously!"  
Simon took Declan at his word and pointed the flamethrower at the Magic Man, but the magical interloper made no attempt to attack, merely kneeling down and whistling to a nearby songbird. The creature fluttered down and alighted on his finger, twittering beautifully as it did. With his free hand, he rubbed two fingers together before waving at the bird. "Magic! Away!"

It promptly turned inside-out.

As Simon and Declan exclaimed in simultaneous horror, both stepping back from the atrocious sight, the now-skinless bird flopped pathetically to the ground and began spasming in the leaf litter. Simon wasn't sure if he was more horrified by the bird itself, or the fact that the Magic Man was still smiling at the sight of it's pitiful attempts to fly away by flapping it's featherless, bloody, muscle-covered wings. "Declan... where exactly do you know him from!?" he asked, alarmed.  
"First day in Ooo, man! When I ran from those things on the beach, I saw this guy around when the sun was going down! Some hot piece in an eyepatch and sweater-dress came and helped him out of a ditch he said he was stuck in, so he cursed her to feel eternal lust for empty metal cans and then turned her into a giant arm!"  
"He just... turned her into an arm!?"  
"Yeah, and she's gonna spend the rest of her life frenching old soup cans, it was messed right up!"

"Ah, dearest Kim!" said the Magic Man with a wistful smile. "Don't worry, she and the can will be very happy together!"  
Simon raised his weapon a little higher. "Listen, Magic Man! If you try anything, I'll-"  
"ZAP! ZIP! ZOBOOMAFOO!" Yelled Magic Man, pointing his finger at the flamethrower. A little jet of yellow light flew from it, hitting the weapon and promptly transforming it into a shower of ramen packets, which scattered all over the ground. Declan was alarmed, but Simon simply seemed amazed.  
"Fascinating!" he said, picking up one of the packets for examination. "To completely reconfigure one substance into another on such a complex level... the amount of energy needed for such a task is mind-boggling!"  
"My, you're quite the big brain, aren't you?" asked Magic Man. "Well, as long as we're over her handing out life lessons like candy..."

Magic Man floated high into the air, and called out in a singsong tone: "A mystical, magical favorrrrrr..." he waved his hands at Simon, who was consumed in a sparkling blue mist as he began to transform; "...for _yooooooouuuuuuuuuu!"_ While Simon was still changing, Declan growled and lunged, meaning to attack the Magic Man, but the impossible attacker raised his hand, conjuring from thin air a huge, bright green plastic tube, not unlike a child's playground slide. It was positioned perfectly to catch Declan as he pounced; he went straight into the tube, which seemed to be slicked up with butter on the inside. The dog quickly shot through the entire slide at high speed as it curved around Magic Man and ending in an opening pointed back the way Declan had come. He flew out and crashed to the ground back near Simon.

As the tube vanished, Declan got up and shook off his disorientation. When he saw Simon, though, he was startled. "Ah!" he proclaimed, taking a step back in surprise. Where once there had been Simon Petrikov, there was now a massive, wrinkly mass of grey flesh at least fifteen feet across. It oozed greyish juices into the grass, and occasionally crackled with sparks of electricity.

Simon had been turned into a giant brain.

"What did you do to him!?" Declan demanded.  
"Sweetheart all I did was unleash his inner beauty," said Magic Man. "Today, a magical life lesson comes to him!"  
"No, change him back!"  
"Not until he appreciates what a jerk I am! WA-ZOO!" Magic Man flew away into the sky, and then seemed to vanish in an explosion of fireworks that momentarily formed the flashing words "EAT IT" before disappearing. Declan watched helplessly as the magician departed, and then turned to the enormous brain lying in the woods. He carefully approached it and sniffed. It still smelled like Simon, which he supposed was probably a good sign.

He reached out a single paw to try and touch the brain, when he suddenly heard Simon's voice call out. "Ah!"  
"Ah!" Declan echoed, jumping back in surprise. "Is... is that you!?"  
The brain floated upward, a few feet off the ground. Simon's voice appeared to come from thin air; there were flashes of electricity with every syllable. "Oh... oh my... this is different..." said Simon the Brain.  
"That's putting it mildly," said Declan.  
"Oh my word... oh... this is fascinating... do I have eyes?"  
"I don't see any."  
"Interesting... no ears either, I assume? I can see and hear everything around me, despite lacking sensory organs... I can talk... look around me carefully, Declan. Am I really just a disembodied brain?"  
Declan quickly ran in a circle around Simon. "Looks like it."

"How frankly bizarre... of all the strange things we have born witness to in Ooo, I must say this is certainly the most peculiar..."  
"There's a talking microwave living at our house."  
"I stand by it. I- oh! Oh! Look at this!"  
A sort of tendril of blue light had emerged from the front of the brain; it was transparent, and Declan found he could see right through it. "What's that?" he asked.  
"I'm not sure... but I can move it, see?" the tendril began to snake around through the air, getting longer or shorter according to Simon's will. "Hang on... I want to try..." he moved the tendril down to one of the tombstones, and touched it to the granite. A blue aura of light appeared around the entire marker, and when the tendril moved upward, it pulled the object with it. The tombstone was torn straight out of the ground, ripping itself out of the dirt and leaving a little trench of exposed earth in the grass. Using the tendril, Simon flung the tombstone aside, clods of dirt flying from it as it sailed between the trees.

"I appear to have telekinesis," Simon remarked.  
"Great," said Declan sarcastically, "while we're calling dibs on mutant powers, I want telepathy. WHY ARE YOU NOT MORE FREAKED OUT BY THIS!? YOU'RE A GIANT ORGAN!"  
"And yet I seem to be perfectly functional. I see no reason to be alarmed right now."  
"You don't even want to find the magic freak? Try to get him to turn you back?"  
"Well sure, eventually. But Declan, this is beyond unprecedented! I wouldn't be doing my duty as a philosopher if I didn't study myself in this state while I have the opportunity! I could learn so much!"  
"I... I mean, I guess..."  
"Brilliant, you agree! Quickly, let's get back to the Fort!" Simon began floating away in a blue aura. Declan hesitated a moment, and then ran after him.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

The brain and the dog returned to the Tree Fort together. "Let me see if I can get the door..." said Simon, reaching out another branch of telekinesis. Carefully, he gently turned the knob and pulled the door open. "Superb! Come on." They entered, and headed up quickly, finding Neptr in the living room.  
"Ah, hello Benjin, hello- AH!" The little robot wheeled backwards in surprise at the sight of the giant floating brain that had entered the room.  
"No, Neptr, hang on!" said Simon, before having to quickly dodge a chunk of poison that Neptr had thrown. "Oh dear!"  
"Stop it, moron!" Declan yelled, and Neptr hesitated.  
"Neptr, it's _me._ Simon."

"...Mister Simon?"  
"Yes. I'm a brain now."  
"Oh... okay. Math!" Neptr accepted the change cheerily, wheeling around and heading over to a pile of books, which he began to rifle through.  
"Huh, that was easy. Come on." said Simon, leading the way upstairs. He and Declan moved through the Fort and crossed the rope bridge to reach the room that Simon had claimed as his laboratory. In the considerable time since they had acquired the treehouse, Simon and Declan had gathered much of what Simon had needed to outfit the lab; some of it scavenged from the postapocalyptic wastes of Ooo, and some purchased or borrowed from Princess Bubblegum.

The lab was cramped and ramshackle in places; mismatched equipment, and some that had been hastily repaired with duct tape and glue. Still, it was functional: clean and well-lit, with tables, machines, computers, cabinets full of supplies, and stacks of books, the Enchiridion featured most prominently. "There are SO MANY tests I want to run," said Simon, telekinetically picking up several books and stacking them near his workstation. "I mean, a brain requires oxygen, so where am I getting it? I obviously don't have lungs. How am I speaking? How can I sense? Where are my electrical impulses coming from? GAH, I can't wait to get started!"  
"Well... okay... are you sure you're safe, though?"  
"How do you mean?"  
"Well that guy didn't exactly seem friendly. And doesn't a brain need to be in a skull?"

"Yes... yes, you have a good point. The first thing I should do is try to determine my own safety in this form." He began collecting equipment and got to work. "Organs need protection; the brain needs a skull, as you said, and skin. I have neither, so I need to make sure I won't dry out or become infected."  
Declan watched for a time as Simon worked. Simon was very engaged for the first time since before he had gone into the ocean; it seemed that something was finally distracting him from his loss, which Declan supposed was a good thing. Still, he couldn't help but shake an anxious feeling about the whole situation.

After half an hour of examining his tissue under microscopes, Simon finally came to a conclusion. "Alright. By my determination, I am vulnerable in this state. I'm drying out, and particulates from the air are affecting me. However, the effects are quite slow, and I should have more than enough time to do my research and then fix myself before I expire."  
"Uh-huh," said Declan. "And you're _sure_ about that?"  
"Oh yes. Good thing, too, now I can get to the real work."  
"Math. And while you're doing that, I'm going to see if I can find that green hobo. We'll probably need him to change you back."  
"Take your time."

Declan made his way back to the general area where they had encountered the Magic Man before noon. Right at the edge of the yellow-leaved forests, where they gave way to the grasslands, he saw a village in the distance with smoke rising from it. Not far from a narrow river and surrounded by a cobblestone wall, the entire town seemed to be on fire. "Huh... I wonder if the lunatic started that... might as well ask."  
He bounded down to the edge of the town, where some refugees huddled outside the gate. They were humanoid, all wearing varied-colored sweaters, with grey skin and hairless heads resembling butts. Their clothes were stained with ash, but most of them looked unharmed.

"Uh, hey?" Declan asked. A few of them turned to look at him. "Sorry, I can see you've got a crisis here, but if I'm dealing with an emergency too, and I could use some help. Have any of you seen a weird guy around here? Some freak with green skin, dressed like a homeless beekeeper?"  
An angry woman in the group replied. "The only freaks around here are the ones that hide under the bridge! I bet one of them started this fire!" She pointed towards the river, where a large cobblestone bridge could be seen. Declan wasted no time heading towards it, wanting to put distance between himself and the fire.

Making his way to the river (which he discovered was dried-up, with a few wild roses growing in the bed), he could see from above that there was indeed a large, darkened opening under the bridge. He sniffed the air a few times; he could smell creatures underneath, but no Magic Man. The odor that was there was absolutely vile, like vomit on fire. Just as he was contemplating this, one of the "freaks" emerged. Some sort of greenish, hairy lump of flesh with no arms or legs, it had only a mouth and single large eye, with which it looked up at Declan. "Welcome, traveler," said the disembodied head in a deep voice. It seemed to move simply by hopping awkwardly around. "I am Gork, leader of Freak City."

"And I am Declan, eater of gravy. You wouldn't happen to know anything about a weird, crazy green guy would you? Turns people into organs?"  
"Ah, yes," said Gork. "The Magic Man. All here in Freak City have felt his sting. He taunts us with an uncertain life lesson, and turns us into body parts. Did he turn you into a dog?"  
"No, I've always been like this. But he turned someone I know into a brain, and I need to figure out how to fix it. Do you know where to find him?"  
"I'm afraid not, and thank Glob I've never seen him down here. You won't be able to force the Magic Man to do anything; he's far too powerful."  
"Dang..."

Declan sat down and stared off into the sky, thinking. "Do you think he'd undo it if we figured out his dumb lesson?"  
"Perhaps," said Gork. "But I don't have a clue what that could be."  
"Well... what were you doing when he hit you?"  
Gork suddenly looked away uncertainly. "Me? Oh, um... nothing of too much significance..."  
Declan narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Wait a minute... what were you doing? Were you doing something wrong?"  
"I... have issues, man! I've worked on it..."  
"Tell me!"  
"I set things on fire sometimes, okay! You don't have to make a cow out of it..."  
"You set things on _fire!?_ Why!?"

"I don't know!" Gork yelled. "It's satisfying! It's just an impulse! Maybe the Magic Man wanted to punish me for it... way easier now, though. I can do this math lava breath thing..."  
"Wait a minute..." Declan said suddenly. "Did... did you set that village on fire?"  
Gork's eye widened. "Uuuuuuhhhhh... I have to go... I think I hear Trudy calling me..." Gork hastily hopped back under the bridge, vanishing into darkness.  
Declan sighed. "Great, the lunatics come in arsonist flavor now..." he said to himself. "Next thing you-"

He stopped midsentence, having a sudden revelation. "The flamethrower!" Turning around, Declan began running at top speed back to the fort.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Returning to the house in a hurry, Declan saw Neptr in the foyer, holding a book up. "Hey, Devon!" he called right after seeing the dog enter, waving the book to get his attention.  
"Huh? What do you need, I'm in kind of a hurry. And it's Declan."  
"Right, sorry. I found a book of jokes! Now I can poison people with my wit! Do you want to hear one?"  
"Not now," he said. "I just figured out something important." He trotted up the stairs, leaving the machine to his activity.  
Neptr opened the book and looked inside. Now alone, he read outloud to himself. "'Why did the chicken cross the road? To return this book!' Hahaha! I don't understand."

Declan quickly made his way upstairs, across the bridge, and into Simon's lab. "Hey! I need to tell you- whoah."  
Simon had reconfigured the lab significantly since Declan had left. More technology had been hooked up and turned on, filling the cramped laboratory with a mess of buzzing, beeping, and lights. Simon himself was, with his telekinesis, building a large contraption at the far end of the room; big, circular and metal, with a large ring shape full of inward-pointing spikes.

"Man..." said Declan, "you've been busy..."  
"Of course!" said Simon. "Busy, that's me. Busy, busy, busy. Busy little bee. B for brain. Big brain. Big, busy brain."  
"Um... yeah. Listen, I didn't find the creep, but I found this village that was on fire-"  
"Oh dear!" Simon interrupted. "Did you save all the babies?"  
"No. But I found other people that have been attacked by the Magic Man, and I think I figured out what his deal is."  
"Oh?"  
"Yeah. He turned this one arsonist guy into a big green head, and he destroyed the flamethrower first chance he got. I think he's trying to get rid of fire! I think he has something against it!"

The brain stopped working and turned to face Declan. Even without eyes, Simon seemed to stare disapprovingly. "Getting rid of fire?"  
"Yeah! In fact, maybe it's that brat with the ice powers, just in disguise! He hates fire!"  
"He's not getting rid of fire, Declan. And he's certainly not the Ice Prince in disguise."  
"How can you tell?"  
"One, because the Ice Prince isn't nearly that powerful. He doesn't have the ability to turn me into a brain, or anything else. If he did, he could have turned me into an esophagus or something in our first encounter and that would have been it. Two, because the Magic Man and Ice Prince don't sound anything alike."

"Yeah, not really..." Declan admitted. "If anything, the magic guy sounds more like you."  
"What!? No he doesn't!"  
"No, you sound kind of similar. Like, I could see a voice actor playing both of you."  
"Declan, that's absurd. No voice actor has ever had that much ridiculous range and talent. They'd have to be basically the greatest voice actor of all time. I don't think so."  
"Whatever, man. Trust the dog ears."  
"And _three!"_ Simon continued, "because I already figured out what the Magic Man wants. His motives aren't an issue."  
"Wait, what!? Well then why haven't you been trying to help me find him! If you've figured out his puzzle, we can fix this right now!"

"There's no need to rush," said Simon, returning to his work. "I have plenty of time."  
"How long?"  
"About half an hour or so. I think. I haven't checked the clock."  
 _"WHAT!?_ That's insane! That's barely any time at all! Have you lost your freaking mind!?"  
"Declan, all I am right now is a mind."  
"Shut up! Come on, we need to find the Magic Man _right now!_ You're going to _die!"_  
"Declan, please! You're distracting me from my work! I know what I'm doing! Being a giant brain is a gift! Don't scorn a gift!"

Sighing in frustration, Declan turned and trotted out of the lab while Simon psychically twisted one of the spikes into place. The dog went back out onto the rope bridge and began pacing. Neptr emerged from the other end of the bridge. "Good afternoon, Dexter!" said the little robot with a smile. "Boy, is it me, or does it smell a lot like updog up here?"  
"This is no good..." Declan muttered, looking down at the planks making up the bridge. "I think I might know what's going on..."  
Neptr frowned for a second, then smiled and tried again. "What is it? Something do with Mister Simon? Is he being a bit of an updog?"

"He's being an idiot is what he's being. And I think I know why, I just... URGH, I don't know how to get through to him!"  
"I think that perhaps the thing you really need to get through to is updog! Are you curious what that is?"  
Declan looked out over the horizon. "I might be able to find the magic guy in time... but that's not going to do any good if I can't get him to listen to me."  
Neptr frowned again. He cleared his throat. "I said, do you want to know what that is? The updog, I mean? I know. You just have to ask me!"  
Declan sighed again, more heavily this time. "Crap. I know what I have to do. Oh, man. This is going to be so awkward."

Declan turned to return to the laboratory, leaving Neptr alone again. The robot smiled again, and decided to simply say the punchline to himself. "...Orange you glad I didn't say banana!?"

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

As soon as Declan entered the lab again, he knew that something was wrong. Most of the machinery was humming very loudly, some of it shaking enough that the whole lab was beginning to shake. The computer screens were flickering violently. A harsh red glow was bathing the whole room; Declan looked up to see that it was coming from the machine that Simon had constructed. The giant metal ring was now suspended from the ceiling, and the large spikes were all glowing bright red at the tips. The glow was gradually becoming more intense. Cables went from the machine all over the lab, connecting to the other terminals and machinery, all of which seemed to be powering the device.

Simon the Brain himself was floating in the middle of the ring, all of the glowing red spikes pointing inwards at him. The humming was gradually becoming louder and louder, and the glow brighter and more intense; Declan was already having a hard time looking directly at the machine. "Uh... dude!?" Declan called, having to yell to be heard over the cacophony. "What is all this!?"  
"It's a high-intensity scanning device!" Simon yelled back down. "The energy pulse it emits will penetrate my new cells more deeply then anything I had access to! I'll gather far more data this way!"  
"And you're _sure_ that's a good thing!?"  
"WHAT!?"  
"I SAID, 'ARE YOU SURE THAT'S A GOOD IDEA!?'"  
"OF COURSE! THAT'S ENOUGH NAYSAYING FROM YOU, DECLAN!" He turned away from Declan as the machine continued to build power.

"LISTEN TO ME!" Yelled Declan angrily. "WE REALLY NEED TO TALK!" He leapt on a bank of computers to get higher up, and closer to Simon. "I THINK I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON!"  
No response. "WILL YOU PAY ATTENTION!?" The machines were shaking quite violently now. "ARGH! HEY, THIS... ENERGY PULSE, WHEN IT GOES OFF, WHAT'S IT GOING TO DO BESIDES SCAN YOU!? IT'S SAFE FOR THE TREEHOUSE, RIGHT!?"  
Simon still didn't turn. Declan continued. "I KNOW YOU'VE HAD A LOT ON YOUR MIND LATELY, AND IF YOU MISCALCULATED... COME ON, LISTEN TO ME, NERD! Oh, man... **SIMON!"**

Surprised, the brain finally turned to face the dog. "LISTEN!" yelled Declan, "I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING! YOU'RE TRYING NOT TO THINK ABOUT IT! WHAT YOU SAW UNDER THE OCEAN, WHAT YOU TOLD ME ABOUT... YOU GRABBED ONTO THE FIRST THING THAT CONVENIANTLY DISTRACTED YOU SO YOU COULD FOCUS ON SOMETHING ELSE, EVEN IF THAT SOMETHING ELSE WAS YOU BEING TURNED INTO A GIANT BRAIN! BUT YOU CAN'T KEEP IGNORING REALITY FOREVER!"  
Declan reached up a paw and touched the edge of the ring. "SIMON... SHE'S DEAD! YOU NEED TO STOP IGNORING IT, BECAUSE IF YOU DO, YOU'RE GOING TO DIE TOO! AND IF YOU MANAGED TO SURVIVE A THOUSAND YEARS AFTER EVERYONE ELSE YOU EVER KNEW, AND THEN FOUGHT ICE WIZARDS AND GIANTS AND WON, AND THEN JUST DIED BECAUSE OF A SLIP-UP, THAT _**WOULD BE REALLY, REALLY FREAKING STUPID!"**_

Eyeless, Simon continued to stare at Declan in silence. The red glow was so intense now that Declan had to look away, his eyes burning. "SO I'M GOING TO ASK YOU ONE MORE TIME: ARE YOU _SURE_ THIS THING IS SAFE!?"  
The brain seemed to recoil slightly, as if in surprise at some internal revelation, and then Simon spoke at last. "...NO! I THINK... HANG ON... IF MY CURRENT CALCULATIONS ARE CORRECT, IT WILL DESTROY, AT THE VERY LEAST, THIS LABORATORY!"  
"GEE, I WONDER IF WE SHOULD LEAVE, THEN!?"  
"NO! THE LAB, THE BOOKS, ALL MY WORK... WE NEED TO SHUT THE SCANNER DOWN! STOP THE PULSE FROM HAPPENING!"  
"FINE! WHAT DO WE DO!?"

Simon floated free of the ring, carefully avoiding the spikes, and flew down towards the computers. "DISCONNECT THE POWER! UNHOOK AS MANY CABLES AS YOU CAN, QUICKLY!"  
Declan began to leap around the room, grabbing cables with his mouth and yanking them free, while Simon telekinetically typed at the computer. "AH, IT'S NO GOOD!" Simon yelled, causing Declan to stop. "THIS IS WHAT I WAS AFRAID OF! THE DEVICE IS ALREADY SUSTAINING ITSELF OFF OF THE MAIN BREAKER ALONE! HERE!" He yanked a metal panel off one of the walls, revealing the lever inside for the breaker... surrounded by spinning blades.  
"WHY ARE THERE BLADES PROTECTING IT!?"  
"I SALVAGED THIS IN OOO, YOU EXPECTED THE DESIGN TO MAKE SENSE!?"  
"WELL, TRY STOPPING THEM WITH THOSE AWESOME BRAIN POWERS OF YOURS!"

Simon reached in a strand of energy, but it dissipated as soon as it touched the blades. "AH! NO GOOD, TOO FAST!" he yelled. "I KNEW THAT WOULDN'T WORK!"  
"WELL THEN WHY DID YOU TRY IT!?"  
"BECAUSE YOU SAID TO!"  
"WHEN DID YOU START LISTENING TO ME!?"  
"DECLAN, LISTENING TO YOU JUST SAVED MY LIFE! WHY ARE YOU COMPLAINING!?"  
"BECAUSE IT'S HOW I DEAL WITH STRESS!"

At that moment, Neptr entered. "Hey guys!" he called, not nearly loud enough to be heard. "What do you get when a Rabbi, a Priest, and... what is going on in here!?"  
"NEPTR!" yelled Simon, "PERFECT! JUST THE ROBOT I NEED! I NEED YOU TO THROW POISON INTO THESE BLADES! IT'S THICK, IT WILL GUM THEM UP!"  
"WHAT!?" Yelled Neptr.  
"AH, IT'S TOO LOUD, HE CAN'T HEAR ME!"  
"WHAT!?" Yelled Declan.  
"WHAT!?" Yelled Simon, "OH FOR- STUFF THIS!"  
Lashing out, Simon grabbed Neptr with a tendril of power, lifting him into the air and puppeteering him, forcing him to throw a glob of poison into the blades.

The purple-and-yellow slime stuck everywhere within the hatch, spraying all over the blades and, as predicted, suddenly jamming them up, causing them to stop. Simon reached in with his telekinesis and flipped the breaker. All of the noise suddenly stopped, and the red glow dimmed. The scanning device detached from it's cradle, falling towards the three. Simon quickly shielded them all in telekinetic energy, causing the metal ring to glance off and hit the floor on it's side, rolling out the door. Simon lowered the shield, and Declan blinked rapidly. "...I can barely see anything," he said.  
"And then the doctor said," said Neptr, "I've been trying to contact you since yesterday!"

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Together, a dog, a brain and a robot returned to the living room. Declan looked up at Simon, who was beginning to look rather reddish, and more wrinkled than before. "You feeling alright there, um... Simon?"  
"Fine..." said Simon. "I mean, dying, but that's about to be remedied."  
"Food!" All three of them were surprised by the voice; it had come from the couch, where a figure lay, cloaked in fur. "Food for a beggar?"  
"Oh no..." said Declan.  
"It's alright," said Simon. "I predicted this. The Magic Man isn't an idiot, he knew what he was turning me into, and exactly how long I would last."

The Magic Man leapt from the couch and threw his shroud aside, producing a burst of fireworks in an entrance just as flashy as last time. "That's right, Bacon Peel!" he said, "I'm here to collect! Gotta love harvesting ripe brain!"  
"Yaaaayyyyyy!" yelled Neptr, impressed. "Someone clap for me! I only have one arm!"  
"I figured out your 'life lesson,'" said Simon. "I'm ready for this farce to end."  
"Brilliant!" said Magic Man. With a snap of his fingers, his clothes were replaced with clothes more like Simon's; tweed, glasses, bowtie and all, but with is same yellow, pointed hat. He sat cross-legged in a chair that appeared from thin air behind him, pulled out a pen and notepad and began pretend-scribbling. "Why don't we go over this semester's lesson?"

"The lesson was easy enough to figure out," said Simon. "You're too insane for it to be something common like "believe in yourself," or anything of the sort. But you're smart enough for it to be something that actually applies to life, and to what you did to me. The lesson is that some people are just jerks for no reason, and you have to accept that and move on with your life."  
"Oh, very good!" said Magic Man, tossing the pen and paper aside to applaud.  
"Seriously!?" demanded Declan. _"That's_ the lesson!?"  
"Indeed," said Simon. "Trust me, I've been dealing with jerks and bullies since middle school."  
"Oh, I'm _sure_ you have..." said Declan.  
"We figured it out!" said Simon. "Change me back!"

The Magic Man pointed to him with a smile, and in a poof of blue mist, the giant brain was transformed back into a normal-sized Simon Petrikov, glasses and all. Simon immediately began coughing, before falling to his knees and vomiting a bunch of grey brain slime. "Oh, that is disgusting!" said Declan, while Neptr simply cheered again.  
Simon wiped his mouth and looked up at the Magic Man. "Now, will you return my weapon?"  
"Yep! By which I mean NOPE!" The Magic Man made a whooping sound and jumped towards the window, vanishing into thin air as soon as he hit it.

"...What a _douche..."_ said Declan.

oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

Later that evening, Simon and Declan sat on opposite couches in the living room. They both stared out the same window, into the starry sky. Simon sighed.  
"So..." said Declan.  
"So," said Simon.  
"Now what?"  
"I'm not sure. Move on, I guess."  
Declan looked over at him. "You still don't really seem to be... mourning, I guess?"  
"I'm... not sure it's fully set it yet. Or maybe I'm in denial. I don't know. I'm too tired for introspection."

"Fair enough. But what are we going to do with ourselves? Just live in the treehouse with the robot that can't remember my name?"  
"No... no, that's not it..."  
"You're right, I'm pretty sure he's getting it wrong on purpose to mess with me."  
"No, I mean that's not all we're going to do. We need a goal of some kind. I've been following goals my entire life... as I assume you have, for that matter."  
"Yeah, I guess I have..." Declan admitted, looking down at the floor reflectively.  
"And I refuse to simply stagnate here. My life does not end with me wasting away in distant future while surrounded by a strange new world of magic and monsters."

Simon sat up. "Maybe that's it. Betty and I studied magic of the past... maybe this is my chance to study the magic of the future. My purpose could simply be to learn everything I can about Ooo."  
"Sounds boring."  
"Perhaps. It's not ideal, but it may work out. First priority will be to build a new flamethrower tomorrow, though."  
"Good idea."

"Hey, do you smell smoke?"  
Declan sniffed, and nodded. They both turned to see smoke drifting in through the window. Getting up, they went to the window to look outside. Down below, at the base of the tree was Gork, wearing a cheap, one-eyed bandit mask while vomiting a shower of glowing lava onto the trunk, creating a growing fire. Seeing them, Gork stopped his stream of magma.  
"YEAH! BUNK THE POLICE!" Gork yelled, before turning and hopping awkwardly away into the night.


End file.
